


Once Upon A Time

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Brother-bond, Gen, Prince Dean, Prince Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1729175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> </p><p>In the Kingdom of Lawrencia, the royal family of Winchester live happy, fulfilled lives; wise and enlightened rulers beloved by their subjects.<br/>Soon all that is going to change and the young princes Dean and Samuel will face the greatest challenge to try and save their world. New Chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Kingdom Of Lawrencia

In the Kingdom of Lawrencia, life went on as usual.

The inhabitants smiled as they went about their business. The people weren't rich but they had all they needed for their daily lives, and as they passed under the Castle walls they thanked God that they were blessed with a King and Queen who had always shown the greatest concern for their subjects, making sure every-one was happy and well-treated.

The Rulers of Lawrencia were unique, for the other kingdoms that bordered on theirs were badly ruled, and the unfortunate peasants who lived there, miserably treated and wretched.

 

In the Great Hall of the Castle, the Royal Family was gathered around the enormous rectangular oak table that dominated the tapestry-bedecked chamber.

King John and Queen Mary sat at the table-heads while their two sons, the Princes Dean and Samuel across from each other..

 

The Queen was renowned throughout the land for her great beauty and graciousness, while the King for his wisdom and fairness.

The two Princes were fiercely loved by all the populace who had watched them grow from beautiful children to the two most handsome and courageous young men in the kingdom.

Prince Dean was the elder, twent-two years old, tall and strong, with sparkling green eyes that had made many a maiden's heart flutter, while the younger Samuel, five years younger, had overtaken his older sibling in height, a fact of which he never forgot to teasingly remind his brother.

Samuel was known for his gentle and courtly ways and his love of books and science, eagerly welcoming to Court all those who could expand that knowledge with new ideas and inventions.

 

Both Princes were well-versed in the arts of weaponry and both excelled in swordsmanship.

Dean was also a crack-shot with the crossbow while Samuel preferred the knife, his favourite being an oriental dagger with a wickedly serrated blade, brought as a gift from a far-off land to one of his ancestors.

 

The young men trained every morning with their weapons-master and instructor Sir Robert Singer who had coached them in the use of arms and in horsemanship since they were toddlers. 

He loved the Princes with a devotion as strong as that of the King and Queen.

His wife, the Lady Ellen, who superintended the smooth running of the Castle, doted on them too, spoiling them with titbits whenever she could, though by the other members of the household she was feared for her awesome wrath.

One would imagine the two young Princes as arrogant and haughty, but they were the kindest and most humble of men.

 

 

"Dean," the Queen smiled ruefully at her elder son, "I know you don't want me to bring this up again, but it's time for you to seriously think about choosing a wife and providing heirs for the KIngdom. 

"Oh, Mother, no more please!" Dean answered exasperated. "You've paraded so many young women before me, but I couldn't imagine myself spending the rest of my life with any of them!"

 

He glanced sourly at his brother who was grinning from ear to ear, enjoying his sibling's discomfort.

"Don't laugh too much Sammy, before long you'll be the one getting this treatment," Dean snarked.

"Oh no, Dean, you're the eldest and heir to the throne, YOU have to marry and beget sons. I can marry at leisure and pick whoever I want, or not marry at all." Sam grinned, his dimples trying to take over his face!

 

"Boys," the gruff voice of their father broke in warningly. "Dean, it's your duty to take a wife and continue our line, and you Sam, stop teasing your brother for your time will come soon enough!" 

 

His father's words wiped the smile from Sam's face as he remembered what Dean had been forced to endure with the endless parading of simpering young princesses brought in for his appraisal, and he exchanged an eloquent look with his brother. "This marrying thing sucks, Dean."

"Yeah," was the silent answer.

 

Having taken leave of their parents, the two boys made their way to the stables where the head Huntsman Caleb had their horses ready for the afternoon ride.

"Good Day, boys, your mounts are champing at the bit, ready for the open road." There was no disrespect in Caleb's tone, the Princes had long ago insisted that all at the Castle treat them no differently from all the other young men, and so it had been.

 

The only one who still insisted on their royal title was their Tutor and Language teacher, Master James Murphy, who still followed their education in the Sciences and Arts, and who was now approaching at top speed, a thick tome under his arm, his black cloak flapping behind him.

 

"Come on, Sammy, before he drags us to that extra Latin lesson he's been talking about!" Dean exclaimed tugging at his sibling's doublet.

"Dean, I like Latin and just because you don't...!"Sam began to protest.

"Come on," Dean repeated forcefully, earning himself a right royal bitchface from his brother, but he mounted his horse along with Dean and both were out and across the drawbridge before Master James entered the stables. 

"Too late, " Caleb grinned, amused by the tutor's disapproving expression. "Perhaps you'll manage that Latin lesson tomorrow!, Ser James!"

 

 

The townsfolk smiled fondly as they caught sight of the young Princes galopping along the old castle road at break-neck speed.

They knew that when Dean became King, nothing would change, for he loved his subjects as much , if not more, than his father King John.

 

 

The boys rode to their favourite spot, a wooded glade which had the added bonus of a small lake, a lake in which they'd been taught to swim by Sir Robert.

He believed the Princes should become proficient in as many skills as possible, and up till now they'd absorbed all they'd been taught like two sponges.

 

It was a beautiful summer's afternoon.

The brothers stripped down and threw themselves into the lake, silently enjoying the warm embrace of the water and each other's company.

They swam its length to the other bank and lay down side by side on the soft grass, falling asleep while the warm sun caressed their strong young bodies.

The two slept on, unaware that when they awoke, the world they'd known would be no more.

TBC


	2. Eve Of Destruction

The sun was setting over the mountain peaks when Dean stirred,  
He stood up quickly and pulled on his outer garments, his body shivering in the cool evening air.

He glanced over at his brother who was still sound asleep. He was loathe to wake Sam, as lately he had been sleeping badly, his repose interrupted by frightening nightmares that left him sweating and trembling.  
Dean had tried to get him to open up about them but Sam had just shaken his head and refused to talk.  
He knew very well how stubborn his sibling was and usually if he let the matter drop, Sam would eventually volunteer the information himself.

While he dressed, his mind wandered back to the conversation at the dinner-table earlier. He knew his duty was to marry and present his parents with a grandchild, but though all the young women he'd been introduced to were pretty enough, none had held his interest.  
His parents' intense and loving relationship had made him desire no less in a marriage of his own, and he wasn't ready to settle for anything else.  
He sighed, pushing the thought to the back of his mind. He'd worry about that tomorrow!

Well, at least he'd always have his brother he thought fondly, glancing down at his sibling, the long strands of wayward hair across his face rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing.  
Since Samuel had been born, Dean had hardly ever left his side, fascinated by the gurgles and smiles of the baby. When Sam was older he'd begun to follow Dean around incessantly, resulting in them spending an inordinate amount of time in each other's company, a proximity which had continued with the weapons-training and studying.

Queen Mary, healthy, young and strong, had never again fallen pregnant, though Dean was sure that it hadn't been for want of trying!  
His parents were not shy in showing their affection for each another or for their children, and the Princes had grown-up happy and loved, something rare in those days when children were raised by nannies or fostered out to other aristocratic families at a young age to be trained in the knightly arts.

Dean's goosepimples reminded him of the chilly evening air and he gently prodded Sam with his foot.  
"Come on, Sammy, it's time to go. Get some clothes on before you develop one of your raging fevers."  
It always took his brother a few minutes to emerge from sleep, his puppy eyes huge and limpid with fuzzy bewilderment as he looked up at his elder brother.

As a child, Sam had always been prone to fevers, and at Dean's admonishment, he hastily pulled on his clothes, memory of nights passed tossing and turning in bed.

The sun was about to give up its hold on the day when the Princes mounted their horses and turned them homewards.  
"Let's get a move on, Sam, Ellen will scold us if we're late for the evening meal."  
"What.., when has Ellen ever said a harsh word to us, Dean? She treats us as if we were made of gold, and you just revel in it too!"  
"Yeah, well, come on anyway!" Dean smirked knowing it was true.

The horses' hooves pounded along the well-worn dirt road and soon they were approaching to the first cottages on the outskirts of the town.  
"Dean, stop! Look!" Sam called, pointing to the column of black smoke that curled into the darkening sky.  
Dean signalled silently to his brother to dismount and they led the animals off the track and secured them behind a thicket of trees. With their swords in hand they stealthily approached the origin of the fire.

"Sam, be careful, something is very wrong here," was Dean's preoccupied whisper.  
Sam's answering glance was more than eloquent.

Their faces paled when they came upon the carnage laid out before them.  
The family of James the Weaver, one of the kindest men in the realm, had been literally reduced to ribbons, the stretch of grass leading to his home drenched in blood and ravaged corpses.  
None had been spared, not even his grandchildren.

"No, no, no," were the only words that Dean could muster, unable to contemplate such cruelty.  
"Dean, over here!" Sam called urgently.

Dean found Sam cradling James' head in his arms. How he was still alive was a mystery.

"James, don't worry, we'll get help..! Dean said, throwing himself down next to his brother.  
"My lords...." James' speech was slurred, "The devil and all his minions passed here, beware my childr..."  
"James, James," Dean mouthed desperately.  
'It's no use, Dean, he's dead." Sam's tearful voice confirmed what they couldn't deny and he placed a comforting hand on his big brother's shoulder, knowing how the death of any of his subjects hurt him.

"Come, we have to get back to the Castle, our parents could be in danger too," Sam declared worriedly.

Dean nodded, passing a hand over James' eyes, closing them.

"Who could have done such a terrible thing, Sam?" he asked, tears spilling down his face, "The whole family murdered, and their home set on fire; and what did he mean by the devil and all his minions?"

When Sam didn't answer, Dean turned towards his brother whose face had paled to a ghostly whiteness.  
"Sammy, Sammy," Dean's strong arms latched on to him, "What's wrong? Come on, you're scaring me."

"My nightmares, you wanted to know what they were, well you're looking at them in the flesh. I dreamt of a Devil with a Demon army laying waste to our lands and leaving utter destruction in its wake,“ Sam whispered, staring at his brother with horrified eyes.

Dean's face took on a grim, forbidding expression.  
He felt the ground, that firm ground which had been under his feet for all of his twenty-two years, dissolving to dust.

Keeping a tight hold on his brother's arm, he walked him back to the horses.  
They rode at break-neck speed towards the Castle, their hearts full of fear at what they might find.

TBC


	3. The Fall Of The House Of Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fall of the House of Winchester

The brothers turned off the road and made for the thick woodlands which lay to the east of the Castle.

"No point in riding straight into a possible ambush, Sam. We'll be real cautious until we see what's going on," Dean said, shooting a quick look at his brother.

Sam wasn't even listening, his features scrunched up in that way he had when brooding and concentrating over something.

Dean returned his eyes to the uneven terrain, trying to make sure his horse didn't end up with its foot in a pot-hole or stumble over one of the ancient roots with which the ground was littered.

::

When they reached the outskirts of the forest that gave onto the town, they reined their horses to a halt, trying their best to still the animals' frightened neighing at the hellish vision materialising before their eyes.

The brothers watched horrified at the sight of the peaceful town that had been part of their lives since they were born, consume itself in a roaring whoosh of multicoloured flames, illustrating to perfection the concept of Hell on Earth.

Above the disgustingly avid and hungry flames, the Castle stood untouched, but the flag that flew on its highest turret was no longer that of the House of Winchester but of a drooling wolf with two yellow eyes.

"Dean…Why?" Sam's broken voice asked the same question he'd been silently trying to answer himself.

"I don't know Sammy but I'm sure going to find out." 

Dean managed to stutter out the words only because he wanted to stay strong for his brother but he really felt like letting go and allowing the tears to flow for the loss of the innocent lives of his defenceless subjects, many of whom had surely been put to the sword, if what they had seen back at Jim the weaver's cottage was an example of the behaviour of these depraved monsters.

::

He watched preoccupied as Sam slid ungainly off his horse and crumpled to the ground. Dean quickly dismounted and threw himself down beside him, cupping his brother's neck and pulling his unresisting body close.

"Sammy, what's wrong?"

"It's all my fault, Dean. This is exactly what I kept seeing in my dreams; the town in flames and that self-same banner flying over the Castle walls. I should have, done something, warned someone." Sam broke down in heaving sobs, fisting his hand in his brother's doublet.

"Sam! None of this is your fault. You get that? None of it!" Dean tried to comfort him.

"Who do you think would've listened if you'd warned them about a dream? They'd only have teased you about eating too heavily before lying down to sleep. Whatever happened here has nothing to do with you. Look at me Sammy!" he ordered.

Dean waited until his sibling's eyes met his own, and for Sam's acknowledging nod.

::

Dean pulled his brother to his feet, no easy task as he was now slightly taller than himself and according to the Lady Ellen set to get even taller.

No, he didn't want to go there! He couldn't afford to get bogged down thinking of the fate of his loved ones inside the Walls.

He had to clear his mind of all emotion and concentrate on their next move.

"What are we going to do Dean? What about all those inside? Our parents…." Sam's voice broke again.

Dean had no simple answer Sam's question, all he could do was to hold on to his little brother and comfort him. Before trying to breach the Castle they would have to come up with a plan. 

::

"Shh... Sam, listen." Dean whispered. "There's something here."

Sam nodded silently, as he too became aware of the nearly imperceptible rustling coming from the thicket of bushes at their back.

They both drew the daggers sheathed at their sides and waited to see what, if anything, appeared from the undergrowth.

"Dean, Sam." A well–known voice called softly to them. "Over here."

The brothers exchanged glances and made their way towards the origin of the sound, knives still in hand. They pushed carefully into the green veil of leaves that hid the man who'd just whispered their names.

"Sir Robert…!" They both uttered the name in unison, but the older man made the universal sign of silence with his finger, and beckoned them to follow him further into the woods.

They went back for their horses, and as quietly and unobtrusively as possible, the princes followed their mentor into the deep foliage.

TBC


	4. The Chase Is On

The little group proceeded ever deeper into the forest, the sky almost cancelled out by a canopy of high branches, thick with foliage.  
Only then did Sir Robert halt, turning to face his young protégées, his grimy cheeks sporting two long-dried trails of tears.  
The princes had never seen Sir Robert in any state other than that of gruff instructor, and the thought of him having cried sent chills down their spine.  
They all just stood there; it seemed no-one wanted to be the first to speak and confirm what they'd been witness to. Then the older man began to explain.  
::  
"They came not long after you two left. The Castle was at its busiest; the gates open to the comings and goings of the peasants and tradesmen. No-one anticipated anything other than the usual day's activities.  
That was our undoing!  
We weren't expecting to be attacked. Too many years of peace had left us incautious. It was just too easy for them.  
They entered through the secret passage that leads directly into the King and Queen's quarters and with them as hostages, they swarmed through the entire castle before we even begun to understand what was happening..  
Those who tried to rebel were cruelly cut down where they stood, despite your parents' pleas for clemency. Then the leader sent out a signal and his troops, who were waiting on the outskirts of the realm, moved forward laying waste to the land and killing all those who tried to oppose any kind of resistance. It was all over in minutes. One of the best attack strategies I've ever seen," Sir Robert sighed.  
::  
Dean was the first to find his voice. "Are our parents still alive? How did you escape? How did they find out about the secret passage? What of the Lady Ellen, Caleb and all the others?"  
::  
Robert held up a silencing hand." I know you have many questions Dean, but they must wait until we get safely away from Lawrencia. It's already nightfall and we must hurry."

"No," was the curt reply from the youngest member of the group.  
"We aren't going anywhere. We're staying right here and we're going to retake what is ours, and wreak vengeance on who has dared to put their hands on our parents and kill our friends,“ Sam broke in.  
His voice had a finality that brooked no argument, and the eyes that met Dean's were no longer those of a carefree young teen, but of a man avowed to vengeance.  
::  
Dean recognised the look for what it was, the one that his easy-going little brother got when he was stubborn, and when that happened there was no changing his mind.  
He himself wanted nothing more than to head back to the Castle, throw himself into the fight and take back what they'd lost, but he had Sam to think about.  
His little brother was his to protect and that came before everything.  
::  
"Sam," was Sir Robert's pained reply. "We cannot stay here. Their troops are already combing the country-side searching for you both. It seems their leader was furious that the princes were not amongst the Castle's occupants. He killed his own soldier in a fit of rage when he referred the news.  
We must go! If we're captured there will be no hope for the kingdom and its inhabitants.  
My lady wife begged me to leave her side and escape; to find and protect you both  
I don't know what her fate is, or even if she's still alive, so I have as much desire as you for vengeance, but now is not the moment.  
You two must not be taken!"  
::  
The sound of barking and clanking of metal echoed through the woods and Sir Robert hissed urgently. "Come, boys. We must hurry, if it is not already too late..."  
"This way," yelled a rough voice. "The dogs have got their scent."  
The barking became louder and more agitated as the pursuers came closer.  
::  
"Take your weapons from your saddles. We'll have to get rid of the horses," was Sir Robert's whispered command.  


"What, no…!" the brothers exclaimed in unison.  


"Do as I say! We'll be lucky to avoid capture as it is."  
Sam and Dean did as they were ordered, their trust and obedience to Sir Robert ingrained since childhood.  
::  
"Now climb that tree as far up as you can and hide amongst the branches!"  
"But the dogs.…!"  
"Obey!" was the curt reply.  
::  
Sir Robert gave both horses a mighty slap on the rump and sent them careering off through the forest. He fervently hoped the two noble steeds wouldn't have the misfortune to break a leg on their mad dash, but he couldn't spend time worrying about that now.  
He fumbled in the leather satchel at his waist and pulled out a ceramic container from which he quickly spread a vile-smelling unguent around the base of the trunk.  
As soon as he'd finished, he hastily joined his charges in the heights of the tree, the three men hidden amongst the thick foliage.  
::  
"Listen, horses!"  
The voices of the searchers were raised in alarm. "They're making a run for it. We have to capture them or Lord Azazel will have our heads. You, with the dogs, continue to sweep the area. The mutts picked up the scent a moment ago!"  
::  
The three occupants of the tree-top felt their hearts beating like drums as the dogs sniffed right beneath their hiding place, and then moved on.

"It must have been a false trail," they heard the dog-handlers say.  
"Could be it was the scent of the horses they picked up," another man commented. "Come on; let's get back to the Castle, it's too dark now to continue the search"  
::  
The three fugitives waited until the forest had fallen silent again before climbing down from their perch.  
By now the sky was inky black; no moon illuminated the trees; the branches reached out like skeletal fingers turning the once-green forest into a child's nightmare.

"We can do nothing else for now. It's too dark to proceed. We'll hide amongst the undergrowth until first light and then…" Sir Robert began tiredly.  
"And then, what?" Dean interrupted angrily. " We have no money, no horses and we're hounded by enemies. How can we ever hope to take back our birth-right and free our parents and our people?"  
::  
Sam gripped his sibling's shoulder, turning him face-on.  
"We will free our lands from this unknown enemy but we must first find out what we're up against. What Sir Robert advises makes sense. I'd love nothing more than to rush in, but the three of us have no chance against an entire army.”  
::  
Dean's scowl turned into a half-smile at his brother's earnest expression.  
“Come on then, Sammy. We'll sleep now, and make our plans in the morning."  
So saying Dean pulled his brother down beside him and placed a protective arm over his chest. If anything came near Sam, it would have to get by him first.  
::  
Sir Robert had lain down too, at Dean's insistence, but as soon as he saw the princes fall asleep he got up and sat himself down on a nearby stump.  
What he had to guard was very precious, and he'd allow nothing, be it animal or human, to disturb the well-being of his charges.  
::  
TBC


	5. The Hidden Valley.

:  
As soon as the first pink fingers of dawn peeked through the trees, Sir Robert stood, stretched his cramped limbs and made his way over to the sleeping princes.  
He was amused to see they'd curled into each other like two hedgehogs, seeking warmth and comfort from the chilly night air and from the horrors they'd just witnessed.  
::  
He was loathe to wake them but he knew they had to be on their way before search parties were sent out again, as they surely would be.  
He laid gentle hand on Sam's shoulder to rouse him and found himself with a wicked knife pressed against his throat.  
"Dean, it is I, Robert. Put down your blade," he managed to blurt out.  
Dean pulled back his arm and began to apologise profusely.  
"We don't have time for that. I'm only glad you stopped before slitting my throat," Robert chuckled, thankfully rubbing his still intact neck.

Sam too had begun to stir, awakened by the commotion, his eyes bleary, always needing a few minutes to come to full awareness from sleep, unlike his over-protective big brother.  
::  
"Come, Princes. We must be on our way before the sun rises," Robert ordered.  
The brothers glanced questioningly at each other. On their way, but to where?  
Nonetheless, they quickly took up position behind their tutor, having nothing to carry but the clothes on their back and their few weapons.  
Dean pushed Sam in front of him and brought up the rear, with Sir Robert taking lead.  
::  
He kept a gruelling pace for a man no longer in his prime, and after what seemed to the princes like hours of non-stop journeying, they emerged from the undergrowth to be greeted by the fast-flowing river Alder, a minor tributary of the main waterway of the realm.  
::  
"Can we not stop for a moment?" Dean gasped, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.  
He took in Sam's panting, which was even heavier than his own, and marvelled at Sir Robert who ,if not as fresh as a daisy, was certainly in better shape than them.

"No." was the gruff reply, "We must push on and cross the river otherwise the dogs will eventually catch our scent. Listen!"  
Effectively, a low baying could be heard in the distance; it wouldn't be long before they caught up.

"Come, I know of an easy place to cross." Robert assured them  
The boys pulled out their last reserves of energy and trailed behind the older man, aware of the ever louder baying of the dogs.  
"Hurry, they must not see us or they will cross after us!" Robert warned, egging them on.  
::  
"Where the damn are they?" he mumbled to himself as he searched for the natural stepping stones he knew were hidden beneath the fast flowing water, giving a sigh of relief when he finally spotted them.  
He signalled the brothers to follow, to put their feet exactly where he did and to refrain from making any sounds.  
The princes nodded their understanding and began to cross.  
::  
Dean kept a steady hand fisted in the back of his brother's doublet, knowing Sam's awkwardness in any kind of balancing exercises.  
If he should fall in, Dean was going in with him, but they made it across with Dean only having to tug on his brother a few times as he teetered, threatening to slip into the water.

Robert ushered them smartly into the protection of the trees coasting that bank of the river, and they'd just ducked down into the undergrowth when a pack of dogs and their handlers erupted onto the opposite bank, fortunately many yards downriver from where they had crossed.  
::  
A tug at Dean's sleeve indicating that they had to go.  
Sam turned to look at his brother; his expression confused. Dean easily interpreted it as Sam's way of asking "Where the hell is Sir Robert taking us?"  
Dean's nod confirmed his complete trust in Sir Robert, and he pushed Sam on ahead of him as they began to move out.

Robert trudged on and on, and just when the brothers thought they were going to fall down from sheer exhaustion and lack of food they exited the forest; and found themselves confronted by foot-hills leading on to a small mountain range.  
::  
"We are nearly there my princes," Robert said consolingly, turning around to look at the two fatigued young men behind him.  
Dean's intelligent eyes glared back at him, his hand motioning towards the steep incline ahead.  
"Why do I think you're just saying that to encourage us to continue our trek up this damn mountain? Sam hasn't eaten since yesterday morning and has only sipped a handful of river water as we crossed.  
He's exhausted and needs to rest."  
He turned worried green eyes to his brother.  
::  
Sir Robert allowed himself a moment to smile ironically." You, of course, Dean have eaten a banquet of food and refreshed yourself with cool wine along the way, and are able to walk for many leagues still, I presume?"  
Truth was Dean looked every bit as exhausted as his little brother, but Robert knew they had to continue, exhaustion or not.

"Look," he paused, waiting until both pairs of eyes locked onto his. "I'm not going to lie to you. The foothills that lie before us must be climbed, at least in part. The place we are going is to be found halfway up the mountain-side, in a secluded valley; well-hidden from Lord Azazel and his army. I know I ask much from you in trust and physical exertion, but we have no choice. We have to continue.  
Lord Azazel will not stop until he has you both in his clutches.  
I swear to you that when we arrive, you will be able to eat your fill and replenish your energies."  
::  
Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Sir Robert held up a hand. He knew that if he gave Sam a chance to begin a line of questioning, they'd be here all day; the boy wouldn't stop until he was completely satisfied with the answers.  
He'd witnessed Master Murphy's distraught face many a time as he exited the schoolroom, his mind harassed with Sam's questions and need for explanations!  
::  
Dean nodded tiredly, cupped one hand on Sam's neck and the other on his arm and pulled his brother up from the stone on which he'd flopped down to rest.  
"Come on, Sammy, Let's show Sir Robert that the House of Winchester can keep up with the House of Singer, especially when it is represented by an old man like him."

Sir Robert took up the bait.  
"So, young Dean, you have the temerity to call me old," he retorted keeping his face serious.  
"We'll see who is most in form here!" He set off with purposeful strides towards the foot of the steep slope.  
The brothers exchanged an amused look, shrugged their shoulders, and with renewed energy, they followed.  
::  
Mental vigour can only last so long however, and as soon as Sir Robert informed them that they'd reached the entrance to the valley, they fell to the ground in a heap, this time including the oldest member of their party.  
"Huh," Dean puffed. "I'd say the Houses of Winchester and Singer have collapsed together."  
"No, My lord. As you reminded me, I'm the old man of our little group, so Singer trumps Winchester,” Robert corrected.  
Dean was too exhausted to do other than nod in agreement.

"We will rest for a few moments. We should be safe enough now, though I will not be satisfied until we enter the vale."  
They hadn't heard the dogs or the sounds of other pursuers since they had crossed the water and Robert hoped they'd gone off in all other direction.  
::  
The sun was beginning to set on their second day of flight as he got up and made his way to a small waterfall.  
"This is the spring that provides the valley with water and the entrance is hidden behind that formation of rock, shaped like three jagged teeth."  
The boys stared in amazement, for no-one would ever have imagined that behind those rocks there could have been an aperture.  
Sir Robert showed then how to enter and they found themselves in an enchanting green valley, with at its centre a modest construction.

"Come, they are expecting us. "  
The brothers looked at him with questioning eyes. Expecting them, how? This entire situation was becoming curiouser by the minute.

As they closed the distance to the house, a man emerged.  
He didn't look alarmed or surprised, but came forward and gave Sir Robert a rousing slap on the shoulder.  
"How long has it been, Bobby? It's good to see you. You promised to come visit, but you've kept us waiting for your Lordly presence!"

"I've had too much on my plate to find time to come and hold the hand of an old has-been like yourself," was the crusty answer.  
"I've missed you too, Bobby," the man replied laughing.

"Are these the ones?" he asked with all other attitude, as he took in the two exhausted boys standing behind Robert.  
"Well, well, well," he continued, inspecting them closely, as one would do with two prize animals.  
"Handsome young men; strong bodies too; I think we can do something with them."  
::  
"Hey, just who do you think you're perusing like a couple of heads of cattle?" Dean's annoyed voice made itself heard, irritated by the unknown man's uncivil scrutiny of himself and Sam.  
But the man only laughed. "Feisty little boy, aren't you?" was the amused reply.

Dean felt his temper rising at the man's wisecracking. He pulled himself up to full height and took on his regal persona, something he very, very, rarely did.  
"You are talking to Prince Dean Winchester, heir to the kingdom of Lawrencia and to Prince Samuel, his royal brother; so you should use more respect when addressing us."  
The man came right up into Dean's face and uttered three harsh words. "Not any more!"  
::  
It was Sir Robert who stepped in to pacify the situation.  
"That's enough, all of you. We've gotten off to a bad start here.  
Dean, you calm down, and you Frank should know better than to needle two unfortunate young men who have just lost everything."  
Frank's face took on a rueful expression. "Sorry, boys, I'm afraid my social graces are rather lacking."

"It's okay,” Sam broke in. "Dean sometimes gets a little irritated, but he's over it now, aren't you Dean?"  
Sam gave his brother a "calm down" look, to which Dean replied with a bitchy eye-roll, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Very well, now that we've cleared the air, I'll make the introductions, “ Robert continued.  
“Sam, Dean, this is Frank De' Veraux, an old friend of mine.  
I saved his life years ago from a band of brigands who attacked him and his lady wife, and since then we've kept in touch and become friends.  
When they stumbled on to this little valley, I gave them permission to settle here in exchange for certain favours."

The princes' curiosity had been high before, but now it notched up another level.  
What sort of favours could Sir Robert ever have needed from this curious little man?  
::  
"Frank, you useless dolt," a strong female voice yelled from the house.  
"When are you going to bring those boys in here? Good, lord, they must be starving!"

Frank, grinned, not in the least put out.  
"We'd better enter before my lady wife beats me over the head with her wooden spoon," he joked.  
And he led the little party into the cottage.

"Finally! Oh, my poor boys!"  
Dean and Sam had barely time to step over the threshold, when they found themselves pulled one after the other to the ample bosom of Frank's dark-skinned wife.  
::  
TBC


	6. Chapter Six:- The Castle Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the attack comes, no-one in the Castle is prepared, especially not the King and Queen.

Earlier, just before the attack on the Castle.  
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

The Queen moved to stand beside the elegant arched windows that overlooked the courtyard, just in time to see her sons galloping off through the castle gates, the black-cloaked figure of Master Murphy running vainly behind.

"Poor Murphy," she thought smiling to herself. "He misses having little ones to teach. There's not much left for him to impart to my sons any more, but perhaps Dean will give him some new students to fuss over when he finally decides to take a wife."

 

She was still immersed in her thoughts when she felt her husband wrapping his strong arms around her.  
"A penny for your thoughts, my love," the husky voice whispered in her ear.

"My thoughts are my own, my lord," she answered primly, "and are not to be shared with such as yourself."

 He turned her towards him. "Is that so?" he bantered, "then how about your body?"

"Well, perhaps we can reach a compromise on that," she laughed as she wound her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers.

"God, Mary," John murmured throatily, already aroused by the one kiss. "Even after twenty-three years, you still make me feel like that gawky, love-sick prince who never in a million years would've believed could attract your attention."

"Well, you did, John, and you still have it," she teased, although her eyes were more serious now. "As soon as I saw you tripping over my mother's favourite dog and landing flat on your ass in front of the whole Court, I knew you were the one."

"Why do you always have to remind me of that most humiliating of moments?" John's face took on a false expression of hurt.

"Because when you become too arrogant, I have to have something with which to bring you down a little!" she laughed.

"My dear," was the quicksilver reply, "If you want to bring me down, there is a comfortable bed in the next room upon which I would be happy to lower myself and obey your ever wish. You know I've always wanted a daughter, one as beautiful as her mother and there's no time like the present to try again."

" John, I'm almost forty-one, too old to bear another child. Anyway in the eighteen years since we were blessed with Sam, I have never again fallen pregnant and it hasn't been for want of trying, now, has it?" she finished impudently.

"Mary, you are still the most beautiful woman in the realm, and the Lady Maude who is forty-eight, has just borne the healthiest child you could hope to see."

"Very well, John," she quipped, "I'm all for trying; so stop talking and perform your husbandly duty."

 

They still had their arms around one another like love-sick teenagers, when a knock came to the door of their chambers.

The king cursed softly as he stepped away from his wife, and with a rueful expression on his handsome features, he turned towards the door.  
::  
::

At that precise moment, the entrance to the secret passage, concealed behind a tapestry on one of the walls of their chamber, was pushed open with an ear-splitting creak and a group of men armed with sword and knives burst into the room, immobilising the king and queen.

The royal guards who were stationed outside the chambers came rushing in, averted by the noise, only to be cut down before Mary and John's horrified eyes, spraying the room with blood.

From the depths of the secret passage a figure appeared. He haughtily pushed his way through his men, and Mary, whose eyes had widened in recognition, muttered horrified. "Azazel."

 

He walked over to her, roughly clasping her chin in his gloved hand.

"Mary, my dear. It's been a long time but I'm glad to see that you're as beautiful as ever. It will make our dealings so much more enjoyable.

But no time for such pleasantries now. We have a Castle to take."

 

John yanked himself free from the two men who were holding him, and charged like a bull towards Azazel, but he stopped dead in his tracks when the intruder pulled Mary to him, extracted his dagger and put it to her throat. 

"Now, that we've gotten that out of the way, you will accompany me and order all your soldiers to put down their weapons, or I will kill your wife and everyone else in Castle," Azazel declared. "Oh, and as soon as those two little bastards of yours show up, I'll kill them too, if you don't do as I command. It would interfere with my plans, as I have other uses for them, but I won't hesitate if you give me any trouble"

The thought of his wife and sons being killed was the only threat that could ever have made John acquiesce.

He glanced over at Mary and saw the same horror reflected on her face at the thought of their sons being run through with swords.

They both prayed that some good spirit would warn them away from the castle before their return.

::  
::

The manservant, who'd been the one to knock on the king's door, had concealed himself in the corridor and heard everything. He scampered away just before the invaders burst into the same corridor, dragging the king and queen with them.

He quickly went to seek out Sir Robert but enemy soldiers were already galloping through the gates, wide-open for the morning market, and so he scooted back to the kitchens where he knew the Lady Ellen would be overseeing the menu for the day.

 

He found her busy ordering everyone around, as was her norm, the noise in the kitchens drowning out that from the court-yard.

He pulled her arm to get her attention, something he would not have dared to do before.

She turned to him, surprised.

"My Lady! We are under attack by the troops of one Azazel, and the castle is almost taken."

 

She looked at him as if he was mad but when she saw the truth in his eyes, she thanked him, told him to save himself and left the kitchen by a secondary door to search out her husband.

Sir Robert was just coming out of the armoury to investigate the increasing pandemonium from the courtyard, when his wife told him what had happened.

 

"I must go to the King and Queen," he uttered, but Ellen laid a hand on his arm.

"No. You must go and warn the princes, and stop them from returning. Whoever this Azazel is, now that he's taken the Castle, he'll want to get rid of them to consolidate his position.  
Go now, while you still can. Use the little door by the wine storeroom."

"Come, wife, let us hurry then. Sam and Dean must be appraised of the situation."

"I am not coming, Bobby. I'd just hold you back and my place is with the Queen in this terrible moment. I have a feeling she'll need me. I just thank God that our daughter Josephine is still with her grandmother for her cousin's wedding."

Robert started to protest but she insisted he leave her, and only the sounds of approaching armed men gave him the impetus to go.

"I'll be back for you, my love," he whispered as he caressed her cheek and moved silently off.

 

Making his way to the wood, he waited for the princes to appear. He had to stay near to the Castle if he had any hope of warning them before they were seen by the invader's soldiers.

 

He watched horrified as he saw the Wolf flag being hoisted on the Castle tower, and was filled with embarrassment at the easy way the kingdom had fallen into enemy hands. That was his fault. He hadn't been as attentive as he should've. He had grown soft during the past years, never expecting such a thing to happen. 

Ellen had told him the enemy had entered through the secret passage, and he wondered just who had revealed the position of the outside entrance.  
They had unknowingly nurtured a traitor in their midst!

TBC


	7. Missouri

The strong arms of Frank's wife almost squeezed the air from their lungs before letting them go from her prolonged embrace, her plump face creased in a smile of welcome.

"Now, let me look take a look at you. What handsome boys.  
I'll wager you two have all the young ladies, and the not so young ones, at the Castle simpering over you; though that might also be due to the fact that marrying you, boy;" she winked at Dean, "would mean being able to prance around with a crown on their head one day."

"I'll have you know, Madam," Dean answered coldly. "That my father's kingdom has been put to the sword and many of my dear subjects killed, so the opinion of the court ladies is not high on my priorities."

"Well, well, we have a temper, have we...?" she declared rolling her eyes. "I'd have thought a well-educated young man like yourself would know how to be more civil towards a lady."  


"Dean," Sam broke in, amused, "Don't you see she's just baiting and you're rising to it like a fish on a hook."

"Your brother seems a lot smarter than you boy! Now go wash your hands at the pump and come eat. I know you must all be starving."

And with that she flounced off into the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

 

Sir Robert and Franck raised their eyebrows at the exchange, but along with the brothers, went to do his wife's bidding.

..  
After Franck had officially introduced his spouse to the young princes, and after she'd graciously given them permission to call her simply Missouri, they sat down to dinner.

The brothers ate with gusto.  
The food was delicious and Dean was amused to see his usually picky young brother tucking in with relish. 'Yeah,' he smirked to himself, 'not eating for nearly two days can do that to you, Sammy.'

..  
The only ones to keep up any kind of quiet conversation were the two old friends, while Dean could feel Missouri's eyes on him. But whenever he looked up she was always staring elsewhere, as if she knew exactly the moment he was going to lift his head.

It was eerie.

He didn't believe in witches but if he did, she'd have been number one on his list.

 

"I'm no witch, young Dean, but they do exist and you'd do well to be wary of them. Now for dessert I've cooked your favourite, boy!," she said looking straight at him. "Apple pie with clotted cream if I'm not mistaken."

Missouri felt like laughing at the incredulous look on Dean's face, but she'd baited him enough for one night, so she presented him with a huge slice of pie drenched in cream and smiled as his expressive face took on a look of pure ecstasy. 

My poor child, she thought silently. Enjoy while you can, for your future and that of your brother is shrouded in hardship.

She sneaked a look at Sam who was shaking his head while watching his brother demolishing the pie as if he'd not just eaten ravenously of the abundant dinner Missouri had provided.  


Her mind returned to when she had held them in her arms earlier. She'd felt their oddness then, and being a powerful psychic, she'd soon perceived why.

The brothers inhabited two separate bodies but their souls were linked. She'd heard talk of such a thing, but had never witnessed it herself, nor knew of anyone who had.

She'd schooled her features, but she'd been taken aback, and to cover her disorientation had teased the elder. He was impetuous and easily baited

They would have to work on that, she mused. The boy had to learn how to be cold.  
..

She had much to ponder, but for now the two youths had need of sleep.

Their room was ready; she'd been expecting them, had seen the impending danger to the kingdom but had known that there was nothing she could've done to avoid it. However she'd do her best to help these two waifs who had turned up on her doorstep.

..  
"Now you young ones get your buttocks off to bed. We have much to do on the morrow and you need to sleep"

Dean opened his mouth to object but Sam's kick to his leg under the table made him shut it again.

"She's right, Dean. I'm exhausted and you must be too. Mistress Missouri, if you would show us where we are to sleep, we will adjourn forthwith," Sam said courteously gazing up at her with two wide hazel eyes. "Lordy, lordy" she thought. "One could drown in those mesmerizing orbs."

Dean's eyes were not quite as friendly as he contemplated her. He didn't like being ordered around and his flashing green eyes bore testimony to it, but he did as she asked, principally because Sam had voiced his need to rest, and for Dean, Sam's needs came before anything else.

She led the way to one of the doors at the rear of the large living space. It opened onto a small room furnished with two truckle beds and a roughly hewn wardrobe.

"Normally I wouldn't let the two of you near my bed linen, messed up as you are, but it's too late to send you out to the bathing pool now, so don't you dare lie on my clean sheets until you've stripped right down."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam answered promptly for both of them, for he could sense Dean's hackles starting to rise again. "We'll be real careful." And with that he gave her a full-on dimpled smile.

"Harrumph," was her only comment as she closed the door and left them to their privacy.  
..

Dean barely waited until the door closed to vent his displeasure.

"What's with her, Sam? She seems to have it in for me when I have done nothing to deserve it."

"You're just annoyed she hasn't fallen at your feet as all females do," his brother laughed, undressing and piling his outer garments neatly at the foot of the low bed, falling on to it with great relish.  
It was clean, comfortable and smelled of herbs and dried flowers.

 

"What kind of place is this anyway? Where the hell has Sir Robert brought us?"

Dean was still in a vexatious mood, but no-one other than the walls were listening now, as a soft raspy snoring invaded the room.

 

He stared down at his little brother, the one he'd sworn to himself to keep safe from harm, and his anger dissipated. Sam looked young and defenceless curled up on the bed and he felt that for tonight, at least, he was safe.  
Mistress Missouri might be a bossy old virago, but he sensed that she did not wish them ill and was to be trusted, as was the strange little man who was her husband.

Then Sir Robert, who had taken an oath to protect them with his life, would not have brought them here, had he not been sure of these people.

Followed his brother's example, he stripped down to his undergarments. His clothes however, unlike Sam's, did not finish in a neat pile, but disseminated throughout the chamber.

He lay down to sleep, his face turned towards Sam as if even then he had to watch out for his little brother.

Tomorrow they'd find out more about this strange place, he mused as darkness claimed him.

TBC


	8. Garth

The manservant who'd gone to warn Lady Ellen about Azazel's entrance into the Royal Quarters, went silently about his duties. He hadn’t run from the Castle as she'd advised him, but had gone off to the stables where he used to work when he was younger, and retaken his place amongst the other stable-boys, hoping to blend in and go unnoticed.  
  
He didn't want to leave. He knew nothing of this Azazel, but he'd personally overheard his words to the King and Queen, including the threats towards the Princes and was determined to help.

He'd been brought to the castle as an orphan, found miraculously still alive on the side of the road by a passing soldier.  
The Queen had taken an interest in the poor child and found him a happy home with Caleb's second-in-command at the stables, and had given him the name he now bore, Garth.  
Though Garth didn't know when his true birthdate was, he reckoned he was much the same age as prince Dean, and he'd decided to celebrate it the same day as the prince's,the 24th of January.  
  
He'd grown up with them and the other children who lived permanently inside the Castle walls, admiring the young Winchesters who never used their privileged position to lord it over the others or make them feel inferior.  
  
He especially hero-worshipped Dean, who in turn had seen his potential and asked his mother the Queen to promote the orphan to lighter duties on the upper floors of the castle.  
In fact most of his time was devoted to tending the needs of John, Sam and Dean.  
He had no idea if there was anything he could do to help oust this ogre from the only home he'd ever known, but he'd try his best.  
  
It was early morning on the third day of the invasion and the Castle slept.  
Most of the enemy soldiers were still in an alcoholic stupor after days of drinking and violence.  
Garth had listened in horror to the screams of the women as the men raped and pillaged, inside and outside the castle.  
  
Like a dark shadow he crept around the base of the walls and made his way to the kitchens.  
He knew the Lady Ellen would be there, for she'd been ordered to prepare the celebration banquet for today when Azazel would crown himself King.

  
As he'd imagined, she was already at work; she seemed to have aged twenty years since the last time he'd spoken to her, but then he was sure he had too.  
There were two soldiers, half-asleep, stationed at the front entrance, and so he crept round to the service door leading to the pantry.  
  
'Psss….!' He tried to get Ellen's attention but she was occupied in tending to whatever it was she was preparing.  
He tried again and this time she must've heard, as her head turned imperceptibly towards the origin of the sound.  
She came over pretending to get something from the pantry and saw him crouched there.  
  
"What on Earth….!" she exclaimed under her breath  
"My Lady, It is I, Garth, the servant who came to you the other day, remember." She nodded.  
"I have taken up vigil in the stables. Caleb has been thrown into the dungeons and replaced by their own master–of-horse, but the stable boys have been kept at their work.  
My lady, I am loyal to the Royal House and more than willing to do whatever may be necessary to overthrow this usurper."  
  
She recognised him, of course, for although he didn't work in the kitchens she was familiar with all the members of the household.

"Can you read and write?'" she mouthed.  
He nodded.  
"Then wait."  
She returned with a note written on a piece of old parchment she'd used to write down recipes, and signalled him to go.

He scurried back unobserved to the stables and settled down to read, "If you wish to help, keep your eyes and ears open and report to me when you can."  
He was gratified by the trust shown to him by Ellen, and he, Garth, would not rest until he saw the usurper grovel in the dust at the feet of the Winchesters.

  
  
Dean awoke to the rays of the morning sun dancing in his eyes.  
He took in Sam's peaceful face and his soft snoring.  
He swore to himself that Missouri must have added some drug to their food, for he had fallen into the deepest sleep he could remember. And Sam too, going by the snoring.  
He stretched luxuriously, just before all the memories of the past couple of days came back in a torrent of images to torment him, and he jumped out of bed feeling guilty for indulging himself when he didn't know if his parents and his subjects were still alive.  


His hand went to his neck.  
It wasn't there. Where had he left it? With all the happenings of the past days it had slipped his mind  
  
Dean was about to panic, thinking he'd lost it.  
He went to pick up the clothes he'd thrown so carelessly to the floor the night before, but they had disappeared.  
That old witch! She must have entered when they slept and swiped their clothes.  
So much for their privacy!  
  
He glanced over hopefully at where Sam had neatly piled his garments, but they were missing too.  
Dean looked down at himself; his short underhose was all that covered him; if she said anything about him presenting himself inappropriately before a lady, he'd unleash his already inflamed temper on her, and Sam wasn't there this time to keep him in check.  
  
He quietly pulled open the door and he strolled into the ample kitchen.  
Maybe his clothes were outside the door.  
  
"They were filthy and I threw them in the wash, boy. I'll give you something to wear after you and your brother have visited the pool,“ Missouri said, anticipation his question.  
Dean stared at her with barely concealed venom, his state of undress upping his annoyance.

" No need to look at me like that. I didn't throw your necklace into the wash; it's on the dresser right over there."  
He didn't trust himself to speak, and so turned and picked up the amulet, which he'd remembered was in the little internal pocket that the Lady Ellen had asked the seamstress to sew in all of his doublets, to hold the necklace when he was partaking in physical activities.  
He yanked it out and placed it around his neck.  
  
"Come here, boy. Are you gonna tell me why you're always so ill-tempered with me, and don't you get too cocky or you'll feel the weight of my wooden spoon on your head."  
Dean tried to push down his anger.  
  
She had taken them in after all, and it was ingrained in him not to be disrespectful to a lady, though he intimately doubted that she qualified as one!  
"Since the moment we entered your house, you have consistently baited me and treated me like a child when I have done nothing to warrant such treatment," he began.

"That's because you act like one," she snapped. "You instantly go on the defensive when someone is needling you.  
That is the behaviour of a child, not an adult and you must learn to control it. In the face of abuse, insult or rudeness you must keep your cool and react as if it does not annoy you or hurt your feelings. Only if you stay calm can you overcome an enemy. Anger clouds your judgement and gives your foe a great advantage."  
  
Dean's anger cooled and he looked at her with different eyes. "You mean you were testing me in some way; to judge my reactions?"

"I never meant to insult you, child, but to show you that a valiant warrior must fight not only with his sword but with his mind.”  
Dean pondered her words but said no more.  
  
"I see you still wear that after all this time," she indicated the horned amulet hanging round his neck."  
He was about to spit out a piqued answer when he remembered what she 'd just preached, so he swallowed it down and asked simply. "How do you know of my neck ornament?"  
  
"It was Frank who gave it to Sir Robert when Sam asked him for something to protect you, after you were almost killed by that savage boar on your first hunt."  
She pointed to the jagged scar on his left shoulder and continued. "Frank also supplied the herbal medicines which cured your wound and lowered the terrible fever that was its consequence."

She saw the understanding dawning on his expressive face.  
  
So those were the favours of which Sir Robert had spoken.  
This woman and her husband had saved his life when he was thirteen, and the amulet that nine year old Sam had so lovingly given him that Christmas, when Dean was still in bed with the aftermath of the wound, had come from this very place.  
  
Dean tuned his green gaze on her and with a very different attitude spoke.  
"I owe you and your husband my life then, and for this gift from my brother. I thank you for them both."  
  
She just smiled and nodded.  
  
"Now, go wake that brother of yours and take him off to bathing pool. I'll give you clean clothes to wear for when you emerge. They are not as fine as what you're used to, but at least they will cover you," she pointedly indicated his state of undress.  
"At your return breakfast will be ready."  
  
He turned towards the bedroom door mulling over what she'd said.  
  
Sam was still sleeping. Dean was reluctant to wake him, but the thought of a hearty breakfast made his mouth water and he gently shook his arm.  
"Come on Sammy. Rise and shine."  
  
His sibling turned fuzzy eyes on him, needing a moment to focus.  
"Dean… Is everything all right?' he stuttered.  
"I've got some things to tell you Sammy while we go to this infamous pool that Missouri is always mentioning."  
  
Sam pointed to the amulet hanging round his brother's neck. "Is it about that? Did it come from here?"  
Dean was taken aback. "You always were a little know-it-all, Sammy."  
"Just an educated guess, my brother," Sam smirked.

"Well, guess this!” Dean bitched.  
“If you don't get your educated ass out of bed right now,I can't vouch for what will happen to you. I can only say that it won't be pleasant!"  
"Oh, are we back to the threats now! Just remember I can give as good as I get," Sam warned, grinning.  
  
Dean yanked his Royally annoying little brother off the bed and with their new clothes in hand joined Sir Robert outside, where he was waiting to accompany them.  
  
TBC


	9. The New Royal Family

Sir Robert contemplated the state of undress of the young men without surprise, having seen Missouri throw their clothes into a tub of soapy water. He was in their exact same position, his clothes having suffered an identical fate

Dean grinned at him. "Got to you too, did she?"  
The only response from the older man was a rueful grimace.  
Dean would have expected them to go the spring which flowed past the house, but to their surprise Robert led them in the opposite direction towards the rock-face, where a little grotto opened into an underground cave. Inside was a pool of bubbling water, from the surface of which wisps of vapour drifted lazily into the air.

"This is Missouri's most prized possession, a pool replenished by an underground hotspring. Just be careful and keep to the edges as in the centre the water is scalding," Robert warned.

The princes gingerly immersed themselves in the liquid, marvelling at the feeling of relax the warm water imparted.  
Dean had to elbow his brother a few times as he watched Sam slip ever so slowly under the surface, his eyes closing drowsily.  
"Hey, Sammy, for someone who has problems with getting a good night's sleep, you sure do doze a lot," he teased. "The next time you slide under, I'm just going to let you drown."

Sam scowled and disregarded him completely, knowing full well that Dean's was an empty threat.

While Sam was warping in and out of sleep, Sir Robert filled Dean in with information about the couple who inhabited the valley.

"They were two misfits who ended up in the same troupe of wandering players. Missouri told fortunes while Frank performed magic tricks and sold potions to attract audiences for the plays."  
Dean wondered at the strange couple the the robust, vigorous Missouri and the odd little Frank made, and said so.  


Robert shrugged, "They do say love is blind. Anyway, once married, they left to go off on their own, and while passing through Lawrencia were attacked by thieves. Luckily my men and I were in the vicinity and came to their rescue. In thanks they offered us herbs and medicines, all of which were very effective. By blind fortune they stumbled across this valley and settled here, and we gradually became friends.  
When you were gored by the wild boar, your parents were desperately afraid you were going to die, and if not for Frank's potions you would surely have!"

Dean had been so engrossed in the conversation that he hadn't seen Sam slip down once more into the water and was only averted to the fact by his brother's frantic splashing, his survival instincts kicking in as the water invaded his nose and mouth.

"Sammy, you alright?"  
Dean's initial anxiety faded as he saw his brother had only swallowed a mouthful of water which he was already coughing out, starting to laugh when Sam looked daggers at him, his long wet hair plastered to his face, with only his eyes and nose poking through.

"I swear you look like mother's favourite little bitch Trixie; you have the same scrunched-up face as that dog, and the hair too."  
These words made Sam intensify his expression and Dean laughed even louder. "You're a little bitch, that's what you are, my brother."

Sam bristled with righteous indignation. "You nearly let me drown, Dean. I trusted you to watch over me!" he spluttered.

"You are a ...a…a…"  
"Jerk" volunteered Sir Robert straight-faced.

"a …a...JERK!" Sam repeated with emphasis. "What's a Jerk?" the teen turned to Sir Robert, never having heard the term before.  


"I'm not quite sure," replied Robert a smile playing about his lips. "But I have heard the Lady Missouri use it occasionally towards her husband, especially when she is annoyed with him. I believe it means a fool or idiot or perhaps cheat as I have also heard her using it during our card games. You should ask her."

Sam turned back to his still guffawing brother.  
"You Dean are a jerk!" he repeated with conviction, and with that he pulled himself out of the water, picked up his clothes and stomped out of the cave with as much dignity as he could muster.  
Sir Robert met Dean's watering eyes and the laughter he'd been holding back in Sam's presence erupted with gusto, echoing through the grotto.

By the time they'd calmed down, dressed in the simple dark green, homespun tunics and hose Missouri had given them, Sam had already reached the house and as they approached they could see him talking with another man of the same dark colouring as she.

Dean threw an enquiring glance at Robert.  
"It's only Rufus, Missouri's half-brother. Now and then he turns up like a bad penny," he scowled. "He's a good man but he's the most annoying human on the face of the Earth"

"Wow, you two have some history, I'll wager!" Dean grinned.  
"No! He's just a pain in the buttocks," was the exasperated reply.

 

 

John  
::  
John pulled at the shackles surrounding his wrists; it was an instinctual movement, for though he was a strong man, he knew he'd no hope in Hell of getting them off without the key.  
Robert had improved on their design and they were escape-proof. He'd have to thank him for that when, and if, he ever saw him again, he concluded dismally.

He'd been convinced Azazel was going to kill him, but he must still have some use for him if he was still alive. He didn't know whether to be gratified or not about that.  
He cursed himself for his inattention to the security of the realm. He should've sent out more spies, kept a closer watch on what was going on outside the borders of their land; but no, he'd been lulled by the years of peace and prosperity, and now look at the mess they were in.

His kingdom and his wife in the hands of that monster, and his sons? God knows where!  
At least they weren't in the dungeons keeping him company. To think that only a few days ago he and Mary had been baiting them about marriage and heirs!

It seemed odd that Mary had recognised the invader, he mused. She must've met him in her younger years, for he had no memory of ever having seen him.  
She was still a beautiful woman and he trembled at the thought of her at the mercy of such a man. The lascivious glances he'd thrown her way weren't lost on him, and he feared for his queen.

The scuttling of a rat in the corner caught his attention.  
"We will have plenty of time to become good friends Ser Rat," he quipped ruefully as he tilted his head back against the wall.

 

Mary  
::  
Mary had watched from her window as Azazel's men looted and ravished, her heart heavy for the brave souls who'd put up a fight and had fallen under the swords of the conquerors.  
She knew John was still alive in the dungeons, though word had been put out to her subjects that the King had been executed, and she wondered apathetically why Azazel hadn't killed him.  
She was an intelligent woman and it scared her that the only reason she could think of was because, in that manner, he'd have a hold over her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the chamber door. She didn't have to turn round to know who it was.  
"Mary, my dear." The unctuous voice made her skin crawl. "As you can see, law and order has been restored to the Castle. Now it's time to celebrate and pay homage to the new king. I'm sure you'll be happy to pledge your loyalty along with the rest of your courtiers. Those that are still alive of course," he sneered.

She kept her face turned to the window. There was nothing to say. She was ready to die. Her kingdom had been taken, her husband in the dungeons, and she had no news of her beloved sons.  


"My sweet," Azazel continued as if they were having the most civil of conversations, "I have set my Coronation and the subsequent banquet for this evening. The sooner the better, don't you agree?  
My daughters will be arriving before noon and I'm sure they'll be eager to meet their new stepmother. The wedding will take place along with the Coronation to better economise on the expenses of the Royal Treasury."  


She wondered who the unfortunate woman was. Whoever she was, she felt pity for her, consigned to this fiend. Nothing good had happened to the mother of the daughters he'd mentioned, she was sure of that.  
He continued to babble on while she was lost in contemplation, paying no heed to his words, until she seemed to hear him ask if she had a suitable gown to wear.

 

"Gown? " What are you saying?" she asked confused.  
"For the wedding, of course, my dear," he replied easily.

"If your bride-to-be does not have a dress, she is welcome to take any of mine," Mary said.  
"I'm sure you will be beautiful even if you wear sack-cloth, my soon to be wife," was his complacent reply.

She stared at him in abject horror "Are you mad? I am already wedded to John!" She suddenly found his face two inches from her own, all traces of friendliness gone.  
"Bigamy is a minor sin, my lady and your worthless husband will be kept alive only as long as you behave. I had thought to cement my hold over your kingdom by the marriage of my two daughters to your sons, but as for the moment they seem to have disappeared, I will have to forego that plan until later.  
You are still of child-bearing age, and if you provide me with an heir, the people will accept him as the future king. I will send in my daughters' maids to attend to you as soon as they arrive, but until then I will leave you in the company of my guards.  
We wouldn't want any accidents to happen to my future bride before the ceremony now, would we!"

He gave her arm a painful twist before exiting the chamber and leaving her in the depths of despair.  
The two guards took up position, never taking their eyes off her, knowing full well what would happen to them should they be remiss in their duty.

 

Azazel was giddy with triumph. He'd conquered the richest kingdom on the continent with a minimum of loss; he was going to take the woman who'd scorned him in his younger days, to his bed, and he was about to be crowned king.  
He descended the staircase basking in dreams of glory. This petty little kingdom wasn't enough, soon he'd conquer the entire continent.

 

"My lord," a servant's voice disturbed his reverie. "Your lady daughters have arrived."  
He quickened his step. Having two female daughters was very useful, especially as they were well versed in the art of witchcraft.  
He'd seen to that himself, and it didn't waste that they were both beautiful.

 

"My dear daughters, My Lady Megan, My lady Ruby. I trust you had a comfortable journey."  
"Royal father, it pleases us that you have accomplished your task. We are impatient to celebrate your coronation." Megan mouthed insincerely, for there was no love lost between the three of them.

 

"That you shall, my dears, and also dance at my wedding."  
"Who is the lucky bride?" Ruby enquired sarcastically.

"All in good time, my sweets, all in good time!"

TBC


	10. Bad News

(§-§ mind-reading by Missouri)

::  
The moment of anxiety Dean felt at the sight of Sam in the company of anyone unknown to him, was quickly soothed by Robert's swift explanation

"They share the same mother but different fathers," continued his tutor, explaining about Rufus.  
"She was an indentured serving woman at the court of the King of Grenada, and very beautiful it seems. How she managed to give birth to two such annoying human beings as Missouri and Rufus I'll never understand," he finished off.

Dean watched his brother chattering excitedly with the newcomer; it was obvious that he'd pushed some of Sam's inquisitive 'research' buttons. His brother had a thirst for knowledge that was unquenchable, he contemplated fondly.

Sam turned at Dean's approach, sensing him even before seeing him; his displeasure with his sibling in the pool forgotten. His eyes were sparkling, as always happened when he was on a knowledge-acquiring orgasm.  
"Dean," he called, as he practically bounded over towards him, floppy hair almost dry, curling into its usual bangs, making him look more like a gangly puppy than ever.  
It was strange, Dean mused that it had taken a bath in a hot pool for him to become aware of his little brother's latent puppyness.  
"As if he wasn't endearing enough before, " he sighed ruefully.

"Just think that Rufus here has crossed the Great Sea and seen incredible wonders, pyramids, great towers, libraries stock full of books…..!"  
Dean held up a hand, hoping to curb his little brother's enthusiasm, " I get it Sammy, but first introduce me to your new acquaintance."  
"Oh. Right….Mmm… This is Rufus, Missouri's brother. He's just arrived from his latest journey, to come visit his sister"

"Prince Dean, my pleasure." The man exhibited the most flamboyant of bows.

Dean felt his face flushing, for though he was used to being addressed by his royal appellative, there was an undertone of impudence in the man's words, as if he was laughing at him.  
He mentally counted to ten, having taken to heart Missouri's lesson on staying cool at the baiting of an enemy. He plastered a false smile on his handsome face, held out his hand and with the most serious of voices, solemnly declared.

"It is of course the traditional custom at our court for all new arrivals to kiss the hand of the heir to the throne, and to hold that position for at least thirty seconds."  
"Dean!" He heard Sam's astonished gasp.  
Rufus seemed disoriented for a second, and then he straightened up and wagged a playful finger in Dean's direction.  
"You were trying to be a smart-arsed little prince weren't you? For a moment there you had me believing in your "custom."

He clapped a heavy hand on Dean's shoulder as Dean's smirk reached epic proportions.  
"I think you're going to grow on me, boy."

He turned his attention to Robert. "Bobby, my old friend! How's life been treating you?"

"Your ears been clogged up or something, Rufus?" was Robert's snorted reply.  
“The kingdom has been conquered, the fate of the monarchs unknown, my own stubborn wife is still in the Castle, I don't know if alive or dead, and these poor boys are on the run from Azazel.  
I wouldn't say that this is the crowning moment of my life," Robert continued crustily.

"Now, now, Bobby, no need to get up on your high horse! I know what's been going on."  
Rufus lowered his voice, exchanging glances with Bobby. "I got some news too."  
Bobby understood instantly that the news wasn't anything good.

Just then Missouri's vigorous voice called out that breakfast was ready, and for all those tardy dolts outside to get their buttocks down on her stools if they wanted food.

The four men didn't let her repeat it twice, for though they would never admit it, Missouri's wooden spoon was a powerful threat, and before long they were eating heartily of fresh eggs, smoked bacon and newly baked bread.

Bobby and Rufus exchanged glances as the two Princes concentrated on their food, having silently decided that the bad news could wait until they'd eaten.

Dean was the first to polish off his portion, and he turned his pleading gaze on Missouri.  
"Nothing to lose by trying," he thought to himself.  
"My lady Missouri, " he asked in his best little boy voice, looking straight into her eyes." There wouldn't be a slice of pie left over from last night's dinner that nobody wants, by any chance?"

He felt, more than saw, Sam's amused eyes on him and hoped his little brother kept quiet.  
"I swear that you and that brother of yours could melt the heart of a stone and I'm just a poor woman. What chance do I have?"  
She huffed and muttered but she brought back two slices of apple pie and cream, and set them down before the young men.

"Missouri, you are the most wonderful woman on the face of the Earth, thank you." Dean gave her his best smile.  
"Yes, thank you Mistress Missouri," Sam chirped in, puppy-dog eyes on full thrusters, happier for the fact that Dean got his slice of pie, than for himself.

With a sigh, she turned away, hoping that the innocence and sweetness the brothers possessed would never be lost in the coming hardships.  
She was a psychic, not a fortune teller, however occasionally some future events would be revealed to her such as the attack on the Castle, but she didn't get to see everything.

While Sam munched on his pie he wondered where Franck was, as he hadn't seen him yet.  
§ He is finishing one of his experiments, § Missouri's voice echoed in his head.  
Sam nearly jumped off the stool.  
Dean had told him about Missouri having read his thoughts, but to actually have a voice in his head was creepy.

§ Sam, I want you to try and stop my voice from invading your mind. Make the effort to block me out by erecting a wall around your thoughts, stone by stone and close me out. Go on my boy! §  
Sam concentrated on imagining a wall, built stone by stone as high as possible but he couldn't hold on to the image for long and it collapsed.  
§ Very good, Sam. While you imagined the wall, I couldn't penetrate your mind. You must practise keeping it up for longer and longer and you'll be able to block me out permanently, unless you yourself wish otherwise. §

Sam's eyes went to Dean who nearly slipped off his stool, mouth full of pie, and he surmised that Missouri was giving him the self-same lesson she had just imparted to him.  
He was certain when he saw Dean's face morph in concentration.

While Missouri was keeping the brothers occupied, Robert and Rufus had gone outside and Sam glanced towards the open door where he saw the two men deep in conversation.  
He rose and exited the cottage, thanking Missouri for the tasty breakfast as he went, but she still seemed occupied with Dean.

The two older men saw him approaching and with a sigh, Robert indicated a fallen tree-trunk that Frank had hewn into a rough garden seat.  
"Sam," began Sir Robert, "Rufus passed through the outskirts of the Castle town early this morning and heard some disquieting news."  
"Wait until Dean comes out before you say anything," Sam beseeched, wanting the comfort of his brother beside him before knowing anything, certain that the news could not be good.

Dean joined them quickly; seemingly sensing his brother's need to have him at his side. He sat down on the seat, shoulder to shoulder with Sam.

"I have information from the Castle, my lords," commenced Rufus uncertainly, unwilling to be the bearer of bad news.  
Two pairs of young eyes caught his own, waiting.  
He sighed and continued," I am sorry to tell you that the King, your royal father has been put to death and the coronation of the usurper is set for this evening," he paused for a moment. "As is the wedding of the newly widowed queen to the future king."

Sam's eyes grew moist.  
His father dead, and his mother forced to marry his murderer.  
He glanced at his brother.  
Dean's face had turned to stone.  
An expression of pure hatred had formed on it, an expression Sam had never seen before on his easy-going brother's visage.  
"Dean," he blurted out helplessly. "What are we going to do?"  
"Don't worry, Sam. I'm going to go back to the Castle and plunge my dagger into Azazel's throat for what he's done."

But before he could even move he found two pairs of strong arms holding him down.

"Now, now, my little princeling." exclaimed Rufus."You're going nowhere. There's nothing you can do for the moment. Azazel would be more than happy to have you escorted to his prison or execute you himself."

Dean twisted and turned in the men's grip but both Robert and Rufus were strong, and he couldn't throw them off.  
"Let me go. I, Prince Dean ORDER you to let me go. I must go and avenge my parents and my realm," he yelled.  
They let him thrash about until he was exhausted, and then they let him fall gently on to the seat beside his brother who cupped his neck in a consoling gesture and held him tight. Strangely enough, Dean didn't shrug him off, but leaned into his little brother

By this time Missouri and Franck had joined the others. They formed a circle around the princes, hoping to transmit their sympathy and willingness to be there for them.  
Dean lifted his head, his green eyes desperate. "There must be some way to defeat Azazel."

Sir Robert spoke up first.  
"Dean, if you just walk in there, there is no way in Hell you're going to get the realm back. You'll only get yourself killed! We must have a plan. Something that has a chance of success.  
Do you agree with me, my son?  
You must find the strength to wait for the right moment for us to launch a counter-attack," Robert insisted.

"He's killed my father and is going to force my mother into marriage. I'll strangle the life out of him with my own two hands, I swear!" Dean vowed.

Rufus stared at him. "Tell me the truth, Dean. Have you ever killed a man?"  
Dean lifted his head but did not break away from Sam's touch, needing his brother's comfort.  
"No, I've never taken a life until now, but how difficult can it be?" he answered in a voice that had suddenly changed timbre, no longer that of an idealistic young Prince but of a man with hate in his heart.  
TBC


	11. Making Plans.

The little group of people stood in silence, not knowing what to say, each elaborating the seriousness of the moment in their own way.

 

The first to break the unnatural stillness was Sam.  
He comprehended his impulsive brother better than anyone and knew if he wanted to have any peace of mind, he had to extract a promise from Dean.

 

"Dean!"  
Placing a hand on each arm, he turned his sibling towards him.  
"Look at me! Promise that you won't go off on your own to the Castle, something that will surely end up with getting you thrown into prison, or worse!"

Dean knew what his brother was asking and lowered his eyes to the ground not wanting to meet Sam's, aware that they had the power to make him cave; but his brother continued implacable.  
"Dean, Look at me!" he repeated shaking his uncooperative sibling.

Dean's eyes, as if they had a life of their own, lifted and encountered the pleading ones of his brother.

 

"I want vengeance as much as you do, but it's got to be the two of us together, Dean! Promise me you'll wait until we have a plan, and at least a fighting chance of winning.  
If you go off and get yourself killed, then I'll die too, by my own hand if necessary," he threatened with a steady voice.

Dean saw the unwavering certainty in Sam's eyes.  
He knew every word was true, for if he had to see Sam die, he'd follow him. He understood it wasn't reasonable, nor was it normal, but that was how it was.

He felt as if a thin but unbreakable chain linked him to his brother and the thought of the one existing without the other was unbearable.

 

Missouri just stood by quietly.

She had seen their souls pulling them together, always looking to complete itself, and she understood. One day she'd reveal what she'd seen to them, but the time was not yet ripe.  
Sam was determined not to release his brother before extracting an oath from him. He widened his eyes even more and upped his puppy-dog gaze.  
He wasn't using his power of persuasion for a futile motive this time, but to keep his precious brother safe. After much eye-locking, Dean dropped his gaze and with an exasperated sigh swore to Sam that he wouldn't go off on his own.

 

Sam rewarded him with one of his most splendid smiles and Dean snorted. "You're the most annoying little brother a man could have. When you win a point you could at least be less cocky about it. Now get your gigantic paws off my arms."

 

The whole group breathed a collective sigh of relief.  
At least now they wouldn't have to post guards to keep watch on Dean and could put their time to better use.

 

Rufus tried to lighten the situation. "So, here we are, six stalwart knights against the vast army of Azazel. He doesn't stand a chance!

"Make that five knights and a lady Rufus, for that's what I am. I already have to cook, wash and tidy up after Franck's experiments; a full-time job I may say; therefore I'll leave the knight-stuff to you men," were Missouri's parting words as she stomped off towards the cottage.

 

Rufus took the floor again.  
"When I passed through the Castle outskirts this morning, word had been sent out for jesters and troubadours to come to court for the coronation and wedding of the new king.  
I'll go tonight and rake up all the information I can about the current situation. Is there anyone in the Castle you trust, that I could get information from?  
Someone who goes unnoticed; a servant perhaps?"

 

He looked towards Robert and the princes with an enquiring glance  
Robert jumped in quickly. "There is undoubtedly a traitor at court; for someone must have revealed to Azazel the outside location of the secret passage which leads directly to the King and Queen's chambers. At this point I wouldn't know who to trust, except for my wife Ellen; God willing she be still alive!"

"Don't worry, old friend," soothed Rufus. "I'm sure she's fine. I did not hear any news this morning of nobles having been put to the sword, and I cannot see Azazel feeling threatened by the Lady Ellen.

"Well, " answered Robert with a touch of husbandly pride. "He should be, for Ellen is as courageous as any knight and twice as dangerous too!"  
"Then she and Missouri would make a formidable couple, " Rufus chuckled.

 

Dean had been deep in thought while the two older men had been talking.  
"I know who we can contact. Our manservant Garth would lay down his life for us. His heartfelt loyalty to Sam and I is strong and unshakeable. I'd trust him with Sam's life and that is not something I would say lightly."

Sir Robert's only comment was, "Then Garth it is!" If Dean was willing to put Sam's life in his hands then no doubting was necessary.

 

"Rufus, are you sure it is a wise thing to do? Go down to the Castle, I mean? You're not exactly a man who'd be overlooked. There are not many at the Castle with your colouring." Sam signalled with his hand to Rufus' person.

" Ah, you don't know then, young Sam, what my profession is? Here be "Jester Job" to delight your evenings!" Rufus said, bowing with a flourish.

The brothers' eyes nearly bulged out of their heads. "A Jester?"Sam said, trying to smother his hilarity, not wanting to offend Rufus

Dean however had no such qualms and he voiced his amusement with open-mouthed, knee-slapping, raucous, laughter.

"Rufus…! You...a…a…jester…!", and he was taken again by another paroxysm of laughter.

 

"Dean!" Sam tried to get him to stop, worried in case Rufus took it badly, but Dean was on a roll and he just couldn't stop, possibly using the laughter as a way to off-load some of his stress

" Oh, right….! Now if you find that so funny, young princeling, let's see if you find this as entertaining." Before Dean knew what had hit him, he found himself eating the grass with Rufus' boot planted on his back, holding him down

Sam looked at Rufus with an appreciative glance. "Nice move for a jester! I want to learn how to do that"

"Your princely wish is my command, boy." And taking his boot off Dean's back he proceeded to demonstrate to Sam just how lethal unarmed combat could be.

Dean, in the meanwhile, sat himself up on the grass; his princely dignity, if he'd ever had any, was at its all time low.

He looked up into Sir Robert's amused face.

 

"Guess I forgot to tell you Rufus is an expert in oriental fighting techniques" he smirked, holding out a hand to pull Dean up.

"Yeah, I believe you forgot to mention that little detail before I full-on laughed at him!" was the stilted reply as Dean allowed himself be yanked up.

He dusted himself off and sat down to watch Rufus showing Sam some basic moves, proud to see that his little brother was mastering the technique well.

 

They'd been taught the standard chivalrous combat by Sir Robert, sword, dagger, crossbow, archery etc., but the kind of hands-on fighting that Rufus was imparting, had not been part of Robert's lessons and Dean was anxious to learn more.

He was so caught up in watching Sam and Rufus that he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Franck's voice in his ear, having completely forgotten that the little man was present.

 

"Come my boy let's go into the house and begin your tattoo."  
Dean was beginning to believe he'd walked into a valley of mad men!

"A tattoo! What the Hell is that?" asked Dean with suspicion.

"Ah, it's a design carved into the skin with pointed needles, " Franck said offhandedly  
"And just why would I submit myself to such a torture?" Dean asked, genuinely curious.

"It will give you a powerful protection against witchcraft," was his answer. 

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, but I've never believed in witches, only in poor defenceless old women accused without a shred of evidence.  
There has been no witch-hunting in our realm for decades."  
"That is why I have always felt myself to be very secure in your parents' gracious realm," was Frank's smug reply.

 

Dean felt a headache coming on. "You mean to imply that you're a witch, Frank. Is that what you're telling me?"  
The only answer he got was an irritating smile.

TBC


	12. Everyone wants to be a clown.

Dean wasn't ready to have his disbelief in the existence of witches demolished so easily.  
Actually what he wanted to do was have another laughing bout as he'd had with Rufus' revelation about being a jester, but somehow the atmosphere was different and the hilarity that he should've felt, wasn't there.

 

Perhaps it was the serious expression etched on Robert's face as Dean glanced towards him for confirmation or Franck's irksome simper that led him eventually to say.  
"You're serious, aren't you? You really think you're a witch?"

"Well, Dean," Robert's gruff voice intervened.  
"Let's just say that your continued existence on this green and fertile Earth was helped along by a little bit of witchcraft, how can I put it, added to your healing potions."

Dean stood up, all this information was beginning to overwhelm him.

 

In just a couple of short days his whole world had been turned upside down; Lawrencia conquered; his father dead, he did not want on dwell on his beloved mother's upcoming fate, and his head was beginning to ache from all the incredible novelties he was being asked to accept; hidden valleys, premonitions (he didn't want to dwell on Sam's own premonitory dream), mind-reading and now witches!

He turned his back on the two and walked a few steps, his tall, trim body flattered by the simple dark green homespun garb, a sight that would've caused the court ladies to purr in appreciation had there been any there to bear witness.

 

He stopped, deep in thought and then turned his head back towards Robert.  
"You knew of all this and yet you told no-one? Not even my father?"  
His green-eyed gaze was unusually hard as it nailed the older man.

 

Franck waded in before Robert had a chance to reply.  
"Missouri and I made him swear an oath that he wouldn't reveal our existence to any man. It only takes an unguarded moment for a secret to become widespread knowledge and we just wanted to live in peace in this valley, and be left alone.  
The life we had before coming here was unpleasant and dangerous for us both. There have always been witches in my family and we've been continually persecuted throughout the ages.  
Now we've learned to be discreet and suspect of everyone"

"Is your wife a "witch" too?" asked Dean, still unwilling to concede that the word had any substance behind it.  
"No, she is a psychic but that hasn't stopped people from wanting to burn her at the stake too." Franck shook his head sadly.

Franck's paranoia about keeping things secret must have been at an all-time low at that moment because he added in a subdued voice,  
"Missouri and I had a child, a beautiful little girl, but she was strapped from her arms many years ago during one of our desperate escapes and with all my witchcraft, I have not been able to find head nor hair of her, and it seems that my wife is unable to sense anyone of her own bloodline.  
Ironic, isn't it?"

The little man looked as if he was about to burst into tears but it lasted only a second and his usual smug face asserted itself.  


:

Dean turned his attention to where Rufus and Sam were deep into the intricacies of hand-to-hand combat, Sam, as was his norm, plying the older man with questions at the same time.

He chuckled, wondering just how long Rufus could hold out before Sam's enthusiasm for anything new stressed him out!

"My lord, the tattoo," chided Franck.  
Dean sighed, "Lead on to the torture chamber then, but from now on no more "princes" or "my lord." I am merely Dean Winchester, an ordinary man, one with no kingdom, no money, no horse and who doesn't even own the clothes on his back, so I'd say that any title other than "pauper" would be superfluous, don't you think?"  
"As you wish, but it works both ways. No more Ser Franck and lady Missouri, just Frank and Missouri."  
"That goes for me too, boy," Robert chimed in. "From now on it's Bobby. Robert is a common name, but nonetheless that of a wanted man. Don't forget that Azazel's men will be searching for me too."  
Dean nodded in acceptance.

A half an hour later he was agonizing under the painful pricks of Franck's tattoo-needles as he stuck them into his chest with all the delicacy of a blacksmith hammering iron.  


"Ow! that hurt like Hell!" Dean complained finally, having gritted his teeth and suffered in silence up till then.  


"Good, you have a high pain tolerance," Frank mused to himself, as he proceeded to finish the design with a gentle hand that could be barely felt.  
"Wait a minute," spluttered his victim with an angry voice. "You mean you made me feel all that pain on purpose as a guinea-pig for your little experiment."

"Oh, come on, don't be a baby. I presume you have never been in a real torture chamber Dean or this would be like a friendly pat on the back," was the cool reply.  
Dean counted to ten, but allowed his mind to wallow in the pleasurable image of Franck strapped down to a table with himself doing the stabbing, using extra-large needles, the size of daggers!

:

§ Hey, I'm the only one allowed to have dreams with my husband in them, boy! §  
Dean groaned and built a virtual wall in his mind so high that it blocked out the sky, and Missouri.

Frank pronounced him finished and Missouri came over with a foul-smelling ointment which she liberally spread all over the upper left side of his chest.  


"This'll stop any infection and calm the sting."  
She proceeded to cover it with a thin cotton material. "Now, don't you go bathing until tomorrow; that has to dry off. Good job with the wall, by the way. You're a quick learner, child," she complimented him.  
: 

Rufus and Sam came in just as Dean flopped down on the cushioned bench at the side of the open hearth. "Dean, what's wrong? " Sam asked worriedly, seeing his sibling's face scrunched up in pain.

"I'm fine Sam. I've just had a run in with a crazy needle wielder!"

"Sam! Come right this way; this won't take a minute." Franck called jovially. Sam stepped away unwillingly from Dean's side, but he went docilely enough to where his brother had been sitting earlier. Dean saw Sam fidgeting under Franck's painful jabs and he had to quell his urge to go over and pull his hands off his little brother and swipe him one; but this was Sam's call.  


If he yelled for Dean, then Franck would be on the floor in a second, but otherwise he'd suffer through it stoically along with Sam.

Dean understood his brother like no other, and he was well aware that under the gentle, good-mannered, gangly exterior lay a will as stubborn as the most obstinate of mules, with a physical resistance to match. He was certain Sam wouldn't show his suffering and his wager proved correct; Sam uttered nary a word.

When Franck and Missouri had finished with him, he came over and flopped down beside Dean, only then allowing his face to show any pain.  
: 

"You are one stubborn little bitch, Sammy. I knew you wouldn't utter a squeak"

"And you are such a jerk, Dean! You could have warned me he was a sadist with those needles." Sam turned a heartfelt bitch-face on his brother

"No way, Sammy! That would have spoiled the surprise!" he smirked, happy that his brother had held up well enough to be mad at him.

Then Sam's voice did a quicksilver somersault, going from bitchy to affectionate. "I'm glad we have the same tattoo, Dean. That makes us even more brothers…..."

"Sam, do NOT go all maidenly on me," Dean interrupted, before his emotional little brother set out on a fully-fledged sentimental journey. "We did not need the same design painted on our bodies to demonstrate we're brothers; we were well aware of that beforehand."

"Yes, we were, but I'm still glad we have them," confirmed Sam softly.

Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes, but the look he gave his little brother was full of affection, as was the one returned to him by Sam. Their eyes stayed locked on one another until a discreet cough caught their attention.  


They found themselves being observed by four faces each sporting a different expression, one motherly, one amused, one curious and one completely unsurprised.  
"Right." Bobby deadpanned. "Can we get down to some serious planning here. I doubt we're going to defeat Azazel just by standing about staring at each other!  


:

"You're correct, Bobby," Rufus agreed. "We aren't going to get anything done like this. Now here's what we'll do. Tonight I'll contact this Garth and hear what he has to say."  
He looked over at Dean. "I'll tell him you two are in hiding but I won't tell him about the Valley; not yet anyway."  
"I agree," Dean replied. "Although I trust him completely, there's no need to give out any more information than is absolutely necessary. We don't want to put you all in any more danger than you already are."  


He sneaked a glance at Sam, then continued. "There's a problem, however; Garth doesn't know you; there's no guarantee he'll tell you anything. For all he knows you could be in Azazel's pay. I'll come with you. It's the only way he'll trust you."

"No, Dean, you swore an oath to me that you wouldn't go without me and you're not going to get out of it. You go, I go." Sam's face was fixed in the most stubborn of expressions, one which brooked no hope of him being persuaded to do otherwise.

"Sam…Come on!"

"No way, Dean! There's no way I am sitting safe and sound up here while you throw yourself into danger!"  


Bobby's voice broke the deadlock between the brothers. "You two are going nowhere. I didn't yank your asses up here just to have you go back and get captured. I'll go with Rufus, suitably disguised, of course. That way, I'll get to see if Ellen is safe. Garth will trust me just as much as he would you."

"Bobby," the twin voices spoke up simultaneously. "They're looking for you too. If anything happens …!"

"Now, don't worry, by the time I've finished with him not even Lady Ellen will recognise him," assured Rufus.  


:

Lunch was quickly gotten out of the way with some leftovers from the night before and some tasty cheese Missouri had made from the milk of her two goats. They finished off with pie, which Sam was beginning to suspect Missouri was baking in continuation specifically for Dean, as his ecstatic appreciation would've been very flattering for any cook.

Rufus and Bobby disappeared into the bedchamber where Bobby had slept the night before and where Rufus had deposited his baggage early that morning. It was already past midday and though the valley was a long trek on foot from the Castle, by horse or mule it was only a couple of hours away.  


:

The young princes were just about to go outside, for Dean wanted his brother to explain the fighting moves he'd picked up from Rufus, when they heard raised voices coming from the bedchamber.

"Come on, Bobby, It's for your own good. You don't want to be recognised and captured now, do you?

"Get your hands off me, you dolt! You only want to make me look ridiculous."

"That's the whole idea, Bobby. Jesters are supposed to look ridiculous."

"Get on with it then, but I swear, I'll get you back for this one day," was the miffed reply.

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Bobby! Now hold still. I don't want to cut you."  


:

Sam and Dean exchanged questioning glances with one another, shrugged their shoulders and continued out through the door onto the grassy space beyond.

They were completely unprepared for the sight that met their eyes no more than an hour later when two Jesters in full costume walked through the door.This time not even Sam's courtly good manners could prevent him from rolling about helpless with laughter, along with his big brother.

Rufus and an unrecognisable Bobby were both dressed in multi-coloured, longitudinally striped outfits. On their head a cowl-shaped hood complete with three floppy horns, the points of which ended with little round bells. Rufus' dark colouring was no surprise, but Bobby's face was now as black as coal, with no sign of the beard or the bushy eyebrows he'd had previously, and with a suspiciously cushion shaped bump where his flat belly used to be.

"What do you think, boys? Nobody is gonna think it's old Sir Robert under here, are they?" smirked Rufus smugly.

Bobby just rolled his eyes.

TBC


	13. Lawrencia Castle

The Castle of Lawrencia itself, though recently conquered, hadn't suffered the fate of the surrounding towns and villages thanks to its relatively easy and nearly bloodless occupation.

The threat to kill the King and Queen if the Court didn't surrender immediately, which it did, fearful for its beloved monarchs, meant that practically everything was still in tip-top condition, kitchens and staff included. Therefore preparations were well under way for the ceremony later in the day, when a pair of noisy, black-faced Jesters passed under the portcullis and into the Castle yard, bells tinkling as their mules cantered slowly towards the stables.

 

Bobby had questioned Rufus' judgement about going in "all bells blazing", but Rufus' only answer was that people see what they want to see and they if they are seeing two jesters, the noisier and the more ridiculous they are, the less reason anyone will have to look suspiciously on them.

This time however their arrival did not attract the laughing, animated crowd that such an event usually did, the inhabitants were still reeling from the shock of recent events and with no reason or desire to celebrate.

 

Bobby threw a quick appraising glance from under his eyelashes at the defensive measures mounted by Azazel. His soldiers were mostly spread out along the battlements, keeping watch from high on the goings-on inside and outside the walls.

 

"How are we going to play this, Bobby? You know everything about the Castle. Where do we start?" Rufus asked.

"First of all we have to find Garth, if he's still alive that is, and get brought up to date on what's been going on. He should be in the living quarters along with the other household servants."

 

They dismounted from the mules in a clumsy, slapstick manner in keeping with the comedic roles they were playing, but again the only ones who seemed amused by their frolicking were Azazel's soldiers.

 

One of the stable boys came out to attend to the tired quadrupeds.  
Rufus and Bobby were big men and although the mules were hardy animals, they were ready for a well-earned rest with a side plate of water and fresh hay!

Bobby noticed the strangely self-effacing demeanour of the boy and he took a good look at him. It was Garth, nearly unrecognisable with his face and clothes smeared with dirt.

 

He gave Rufus a poke in the ribs and having got his attention, gave a half-nod towards the stable lad.  
"That's Garth," he whispered.

"I don't know how he finished up there, but it's the perfect place to exchange a few words; better if unnoticed by the guards."

"Now don't you worry your pretty little head about that, Bobby! Nobody's gonna be looking at you!" Rufus smirked.

 

No sooner said than done.  
Rufus swaggered his way into the centre of the yard and started to cavort around, singing bawdy songs and generally throwing himself about  
Bobby waited a few seconds until the attention of the on-lookers was concentrated on his antics, then slipped into the stables behind Garth and the mules.

He crept up behind the lad and slipped a hand over his mouth whispering into his ear that he only wanted to talk and not to call out when he took his hand away.  
At his victim's nod, Bobby released him.

 

"Garth?""

"How do you know my name, Jester?" was the cautious reply.

"Study me well, lad." Garth considered the man standing before him. There was something vaguely familiar that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

 

No, it couldn't be! "Sir Robe…!"

"Shhhh…" Bobby placed a hand over his mouth again and Garth nodded.

He pulled Bobby into the furthest angle of the stables where he'd been sleeping these past nights and launched into a barrage of questions.

"My lord, are the princes safe? Have they been wounded? Where are th…..?"

"All you have to know is that they're in a safe place and are well. They send their greetings and would ask for your help in these troubling times, if you are willing."

"I would lay down my life for them; you may ask anything of me," was Garth's fervent reply.

 

"Tell me, boy. Is the Lady Ellen in good health?" Bobby trembled as he asked, fearful that his feisty wife had said or done something that had caused her to be hurt or killed.

"She is well, my lord. She's been ordered to oversee the preparations for the Coronation. She's aware of my loyalty and willingness to help the cause of the Winchester House, and has entrusted me with gathering any information which could be useful to that end."  
Bobby let out a sigh of relief. He felt ready to face anything now that he knew his wife was okay.

"I thank you, Garth. You have lifted a weight from my heart," was Bobby earnest response. "Now, just what has been happening with Azazel and his cohorts? Bring me up to date, Garth."  
And Garth did.

 

Ten minutes later, the apprentice Jester went to join his colleague in the yard and merged seamlessly into his role of assistant.  
They continued on for a handful of minutes until Rufus held up a hand.

 

"Enough, people. We Jesters must keep our best tricks for the Coronation. We wouldn't want the new king to be displeased with our performance."

He turned to Bobby.

"Come brother we will replenish our energies in the kitchen. Surely there will be some food to spare for two buffoons on this joyous day!"

Only a few of the soldiers clapped their hands in appreciation of their show, as the two men made their way towards the kitchens, the tantalising aromas of the cooking food pointing them in the right direction.

 

Rufus exchanged an enquiring glance with Bobby who answered with a smile and an imperceptible nod.

The Lady Ellen was alive.

 

Rufus took the lead as they burst into the kitchen. The attention of the servants, intent on their chores, was distracted by the boisterous entry of the two jokers.

 

"My fair Lady." Rufus began. "Would you kindly have some food to spare for two buffoons who would enliven this joyous day! A Coronation and a wedding, no less..."  
"Get your fat buttocks out of my kitchen," was the blunt reply from Ellen, who didn't even bother lifting her eyes from her recipe book. "If you're not out of here by the time I count to three, the pot of water that's boiling over the hearth is going to find itself all over you instead."

Rufus rolled his eyes at Bobby who cleared his throat and began, "You would not wish to scald two harmless jesters such as ourselves, sweet pumpkin."

Ellen lifted her eyes, and turned a confused gaze on the two strangers who had just violated her kitchen. "Sweet pumpkin?"

Bobby knew that he was practically unidentifiable in this disguise; the only things that hadn't been altered were his eyes so he used them to their best effect by looking straight into his wife's bewildered ones.  
He saw the understanding flowering as they softened in recognition, but other than that she gave no outward sign of the presence of her husband standing a few yards distant from her.

 

"Well, maybe I have been a bit harsh with you. What has happened is not your fault and you're only looking to make a living by plying your trade where you can. Come sit here next to me. I am curious to hear the latest gossip from you last port-of-call."

"You are too gracious, my sweet lady and I promise when we have eaten we will give you all a taste of our performance," Rufus finished off with a toothy grin.

 

 

Mary paced her chamber, the words of Azazel fresh in her mind. "Either you obey or your husband dies."

She was caught between a rock and a hard place.

The only way out would be to kill herself but that was impossible with the two soldiers standing guard over her, watching her every move like a hawk.

 

She kept telling herself to stay calm; and then suddenly the simplest of ideas illuminated her. When Azazel came to her bed that night, as he surely would, she would kill him.

 

There was a dagger hidden in the bottom of her sewing box. John had insisted she learn how to use it but if she couldn't get to it and all she had was her bare hands, then she'd use them to strangle him; her hatred would fuel her strength and God willing, she'd free her kingdom and her husband.

With a viable plan in mind, she passed the time working out how exactly to pull it off. Perhaps when he was in the climax of passion, at his weakest, would be the best moment, she mused

 

So absorbed was she that she never heard her chamber door opening, and she jumped in surprise at the sight of the two young women standing before her.

 

"Ah, my lady, were you so engrossed in pleasant thoughts of your upcoming nuptials that you did not hear us enter?" was the sneering remark of the blond girl.

"We are happy to know that the joy in your heart at becoming our father's new wife makes you unaware of anything else," jeered her sister.

"I must say that our father has good taste, even though you are no longer in the first bloom of youth, your beauty is still remarkable," smirked the blond

"What do you want? I did not invite you here. Get out of my chambers!" was Mary's acid reply.

 

"Such hostility! We only wanted to get to know our new mother and become friends," was the insincere reply of the younger.

"Any progeny of Azazel is no friend of mine. He is worse than a demon and you two are demon-spawn," Mary spat out.

The blond continued unperturbed as if Mary had given her the sweetest of compliments.  
"However we must say we are so, so, disappointed that we didn't get to meet your sons. Their handsomeness and prowess are famous throughout the realms and our regal father wishes nothing better than to see his beloved daughters married to worthy suitors.  
Is that not the wish of every parent, my lady?"

 

"You are not even fit to look upon my sons, let alone wed them. You may both be passingly pretty but that would never be enough to satisfy them," Mary declared contemptuously.  


"Do not be so sure my lady. When my father finds them, and rest assured he will, they will both be the most ardent of suitors, won't they Ruby!"  
"Of that there is no doubt, my dear sister; they will love us as no other." Ruby smirked, tossing back her long dark hair and exchanging a triumphant smirk with her sibling.

 

"We will leave you to your preparations, my lady. Our own ladies-in-waiting will come soon to render you even more beautiful for our eager father." They exited the room on that note, leaving Mary even more desperate than before at the thought of her beloved sons in the hands of two such as those.

Mary, like John and her sons, had never believed in witches, but if she did, the two young bitches who had just left her chambers would be the first in line for the title.

 

 

Dean gingerly touched his shoulder. The tattoo didn't hurt any more but he had the most unsupportable urge to scratch it.

 

Rufus and Bobby had been gone for more than five hours now, and he felt guilty sitting here relatively safe while they were in danger of being captured, or worse.

The long shadow of his brother fell over him as he lowered himself down at his side on the flat rock in front of the opening to the hot-spring grotto.

 

Sam didn't say anything. He knew exactly what Dean was thinking for it was his self-same preoccupation. He hated that others had to be in danger because of them, however he knew that going down to the Castle on a guilt trip and getting captured, would only make things worse.  


 

"Dean," he began hesitantly.

"Don't Sam! Just don't! I know what you're going to say. And I agree that going off half-baked is a stupid thing to do but that doesn't make me feel any better about the whole damn situation."

"When Rufus and Bobby come back," Dean wasn't ready to accept the alternative." We decide what we're going to do and we do it, danger or no danger. It's our responsibility to take back what's rightfully ours and we'll succeed."

 

He stood up, no longer a young carefree prince. He could feel the gradual transformation taking place inside him. His idealism was giving way to this new vengeful Dean, who had never before killed nor wanted to kill anyone.

His heart was heavy because he knew that in the moment he took a life, it would mark him forever, but it was inevitable. He was going to kill Azazel.

 

Sam had kept his eyes on Dean the whole time.

Like his brother, Sam had never killed but he knew he would do it without a second thought if it was to save Dean. There was nothing and no-one more important to him than his brother.

 

Dean turned away from the lush panorama of the valley and met his sibling's eyes.  


Just as if he'd heard Sam's thoughts he repeated the exact same words. "If anyone lays a finger on you Sammy, I'd kill him without a second thought."

They locked glances and both took an unsaid oath. They would kill, live and die for each other.

TBC


	14. Getting Ready

He stood unnoticed in a corner of the courtyard, quietly observing the medley of human activities playing out before him.

One could learn so many things by blending into the background and keeping one's eyes and ears open.

It was more than two days now since Lord Azazel had taken control of the Realm, but as yet he hadn't called him to his presence as he'd promised.

 

It was thanks to him that Azazel and his troops had managed to gain such an easy victory over the Winchesters.

He had divulged the whereabouts of the secret passage, and had been guaranteed an earldom and rich lands as a reward, but so far nothing had been forthcoming.

He'd bide his time until tomorrow, after the Coronation and so-called "wedding" took place, then he'd approach the new king and demand his payment. After having bedded his new wife, Azazel might be in a generous mood and knight him on the spot.

 

He watched impassively as two colourful and boisterous buffoons on their mules passed under the portcullis and entered the cobbled courtyard, but not even their ridiculous antics brought a smile to his face.

Up until now, these were the only two entertainers who had presented themselves to perform at the ceremony. There was nothing really strange about that, he mused. These travelling clowns went where they could find work, and their loyalties were only to themselves…yet there was something familiar about one of them. He just couldn't put his finger on it but it would come to him eventually.

His eyes continued to scrutinize the two men as they made their way to the kitchens but the …tantalising detail danced just out of his mind's reach.….

 

 

Dean brought the axe down on the fallen tree-trunk with all the strength in his supple young body.

Missouri had sensed the mounting rage in the young man and had casually mentioned her supply of logs for the hearth were getting low and that it took Franck ages to get round to doing it, preferring to spend his time pottering about in his laboratory.  
Dean had offered instantly to chop the trunk into firewood, something he himself had never done; it was an activity that was not judged to be necessary for a Prince!

 

"He'll be sore tomorrow," sighed Sam as he watched his big brother rain down violence on the wood.

"He needed to get the anger out of his system, child and it's better he take it out on the wood than go off half-cocked and get himself killed trying to take back his birthright by himself, " replied Missouri.

"I'd never say this to Dean but I hold out little hope of ever getting anything back. There are only two of us against an army." Sam turned his soulful eyes on the psychic and was surprised when she answered him crustily.

"I don't want to hear that kind of talk, young Sam. You'll get your home back. I don't know how long it'll take or how it will come about, but when the time comes you'll know what to do.

It's not going to be easy, and you'll both have to find untapped sources of strength within yourselves, but you will succeed. Now get out there and give your brother a hand; it'll do you good to put more hard muscle on that gangly body of yours, especially when in a few months time you'll be more than a hand span taller than Dean."

"I'm eighteen. I won't get any taller than this, so Dean says."  
"Oh, he does, does he?" was Missouri amused reply. "You want to place a little wager on that Sam. How about this? If you grow even taller than Dean, you'll return to chop wood for me every winter, but if you stay as you are, I'll cook you two pies a week for the rest of your days. Is it a deal, young Winchester?"

Sam flashed her one of his best dimpled smiles before he turned to go out to help his brother.

"It's deal Missouri! Dean and I are going to be eating the best pie in the world forever!"

 

She shook her head at the certainty of the young man.

"What a sweet child. They both are," she mused.

They'd only been here a few days and already she had taken them to heart. Without more ado she turned and went to join her husband in his laboratory.

 

"Franck, my dear, are you nearly done?"

"Yes, my sweet. I have made ready what I can."

 

Sam sauntered over to where his brother was working and spotted another axe propped against the garden seat.

He picked it up and tested its weight.

Dean hadn't lifted his eyes at his approach, the long shadow cast by his brother already averting him to who it was, but from under his eyelashes he watched as Sam picked up the axe and made ready to attack the other end of the log.

 

"Are you sure you can handle that, Sammy?"

"What's that supposed to mean, Dean? We've been training with swords and axes since we were young; how can this be any different?"

"Alright but keep to the far end of the log and be careful. All I need is for you to chop a bit off me or off you, for that matter!"

"Dean, you must consider me a true incompetent even to think such a thing." Sam's bitch-face made its appearance as he directed it forcefully at his uncharitable sibling.

"Do I have to remind you of the time one slipped from your grasp and finished up flying through the kitchen window and nearly took the hand off a terrified kitchen maid, or the other time you nearly embedded it in our mother's favourite mare or….!" Dean smirked.

"Dean, I was NINE and the axe was nearly bigger than me," Sam whined. "Are you going to keep harping back to my childish mistakes? Don't tell me you never did anything stupid with weapons when you were younger, because I won't believe it!"

"No way! I was perfect, and even if slight accidents DID happen, you were too young to remember them," was the smug reply.

 

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

 

Sam put his back into the job. If Dean had the will to tease him, it meant he was feeling calmer, and Sam was happy.

He couldn't quite understand the reason but when he was close by his brother he felt whole, as if that was where he was meant to be.

He wondered if Dean felt the same. One day he'd ask him outright when he was in a more accommodating mood.

 

Little did he know that Dean DID feel exactly the same, the presence of Sam at his side completed him, though he'd never analysed the reason.

He wondered if Sam felt the same. One day he'd ask, but for now both brothers put their all into chopping enough wood for Missouri's needs.

 

The sun was starting to set behind the higher peaks when Missouri called. "Go clean up boys, Dinner is nearly ready. Franck says as long as you keep your tattoos out of the water, you may bathe but hurry we have to talk."

The brothers exchanged a worried glance. What now? 

They bathed as quickly as they could, resisting the temptation to wallow for hours in the invigorating hot pool and hurried back down to the house.

 

Missouri insisted they eat first and when their hunger had been sated with good food, Franck took the floor.

"As you already know, I am a witch, well versed in the ways of magic. I only use it for good, but there are others who have turned to the black arts and invoke the devil as their master.

The princes' eyes grew as round as saucers, their gazes perplexed.

 

Franck continued. " I have reason to believe Azazel has dabbled in such necromancy. My "instruments" tell me that there is a strong shadow of black magic hovering over the Castle. If that is so, it will be even more difficult to retake it."

Sam shot a bitchy glare at Missouri, recalling the conversation they'd had earlier about the difficulty in reconquering the Realm, when she'd brushed aside his fears.

 

"The tattoos you have will give you protection against possession but I have also prepared these two bracelets from the hair of a sacred black cat, impregnated with mandrake oil for added power and to keep them supple."

He handed two thin black leather and hair bracelets over to the princes.

"These will give you extra protection against witchcraft and evil in general. Do not ever take them off. Also here are two blessed silver rings that will ward off malignity. Silver is a powerful defence against all evil creatures.

That is as much as I can do to protect your persons in this short time. What are you waiting for? Put them on!"

 

Dean exchanged glances with his brother.

He didn't want to offend the little guy in any way, for he'd come to appreciate him, even if he was rather brusque.

"Franck," he began. "It has already been difficult for us to believe you are a witch; however your potions did save my life and Bobby has complete faith in you, so I'm willing to give your claim credence, but now you want us to believe in evil witches and black magic, and that a bracelet entwined with cat's hair and a silver ring will give us some kind of protection."

He leaned forward and repeated earnestly. "It's difficult for us to accept."

"More difficult for you to accept than the fact I can read your thoughts or that you can erect a virtual wall to keep me out?" intervened Missouri

"She's right Dean!" Sam broke in. "Three days ago we'd never have believed any of this and yet these things have happened. Just because it's hard for us to understand, doesn't mean that it is all a lie!"

So saying Sam slipped the black bracelet onto his wrist and the silver ring on to the fourth finger of his right hand.

 

Dean regarded his brother with astonishment.

Sam the scholar, who always stressed people to death with his unending questions on every tiny detail, ready to trust Franck on the outlandish things he'd just said, without an objection of any kind!

"Sammy! You believe all this?"

"There's no harm in taking precautions, is there?" shrugged his sibling. "Put them on, Dean. They'll do us no harm and they may do us some good."

Shaking his head at his little brother's gullibility, Dean pushed the bracelet on to his wrist and slipped the silver ring on to the same finger as Sam had.

 

The Castle Yard 

The silent observer was no longer paying attention to what was going on around him, his mind occupied with trying to focus on that elusive little particular that was dancing just out of his consciousness.

A half-smile came over his face as his concentration paid off and the answer became clear. He made his way over to the Azazel's Master-of-Arms and whispered in his ear.

 

The soldier answered with a smirk and a nod, and quickly signalled to one of his men. He imparted a message and waited for the man to come back with instructions.  
The observer made his way back to the corner of the yard from where he'd come, and waited

He watched as a half-dozen soldiers made their way to the kitchen. Moments later he witnessed the two jesters being dragged out by the armed men and hauled bodily into the Castle Keep.

 

He smiled; Azazel would have to add an extra to what he'd already promised him, for today's work!

 

TBC


	15. A Traitor In Our Midst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufus and Sir Robert get captured.  
> ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Lawrencia Castle  
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Azazel preened himself in the mirror.

The royal coronation robes of Lawrencia sat a little too large on his shoulders, but his sartorial elegance was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

A knock at his chamber door disturbed his musings. He signalled his servant to attend to the matter while keeping an ear on the whispered exchange of information coming from the doorway.

 

"My Lord, the messenger reports that two men have been brought to the attention of the Master-at-Arms, one of whom is suspected to be Sir Robert Singer, a man loyal to the House of Winchester."

Azazel was beginning to believe his conquest of Lawrencia had been championed not only by the dark forces but also by the good Fates; everything it seemed, was falling into place.

He smiled, not a pretty sight, and it scared his servant even more than his impatient rages.

 

"Where were they?"

"They were reported to be in the kitchens, my lord."

"Visiting his little lady wife. How sweet! Send the soldiers to take them and then bring them to my outer study. The less people who notice them the better."

 

Before long the two Jesters were dragged struggling before him.

"Well, well, well, an admirable choice of disguises, my dear Sir Robert. I'd wager not even your good wife recognised you thus attired. And who is your companion?"

 

"My lord," began Rufus, aware at this point that everything was well and truly lost, and hoping maybe one of them could get out of this mess and get back to the valley to warn the others. "I do not know this Jester here." He nodded towards Bobby.  


"We met on the road to the Castle, and decided to join forces to preside at your royal coronation. If he is a wanted criminal, I know nothing of that, neither do I understand why I have been brought before you."

 

"You must consider me a fool if you think I would fall for a cock and bull story like that, buffoon!" Azazel sniffed.

He ignored Rufus and turned his attention to Bobby.

 

"Now Sir Robert, I'd love to have a long, long conversation with you, for I'm sure the young Princes whereabouts are well-known to you, but that little pleasure will have to wait, as I do not wish to be late for my coronation, and my bride-to–be is anxious to take her nuptial vows.  


Tomorrow we will have our little chat and I'm sure before long our missing Princes will be here to rejoice with us. My daughters are so anxious to meet them. Perhaps we will have cause to celebrate another two weddings in the near future.  


I hope you'll still be around to attend Sir Robert, but for tonight you will be lodged in your own dungeons," Azazel finished off smugly.  


:

"How did you know it was me? In this costume, no-one could have recognised me," Bobby challenged coldly.  
"That's where you're wrong, Singer! Suffice to say I have a very efficient observation system amongst my loyal subjects."  


:

"You mean there is a traitor in our midst. The same that revealed the entrance to the secret passage, I'll wager," was Bobby's bitter reply.

"Tut, tut, now that would be telling, wouldn't it? Take them to the cells, far from any of the other prisoners," Azazel commanded, a wave of his hand gesticulating their dismissal.  


:

"Don't think you're going to get away with this, Azazel! Just as the House of Winchester fell by treachery, so will yours," were Bobby's parting words as he and Rufus were hauled away struggling and swearing to the cells

As they were manhandled into the corridor, they crossed paths with two beautiful young women, one blond and one dark, who eyed them with a passing curiosity.

:

"I see our father is cleaning out all the cockroaches from this old Castle," smirked the blond, both females sweeping haughtily past them into the soon-to-be king's chambers.

 

 

There was silence around the sturdy oak table, the four people sitting there each immersed in their own thoughts

Dean was still taken aback by this new addition of black magic and evil witches to his knowledge of the world, combined with the astonishment at the easy way his little brother had seemed to accept it all so unquestioningly.

Sam, on the other hand, perhaps because of his enquiring mind and love for poring over any written material that came into his hands, was already documented on the various aspects of the shadowy world of magic and witchery, though he himself had never witnessed anything of the sort.  
However logic told him if there were good witches, and that was indubitable as they had one sitting right across from them, and good magic, there was no reason its contrary could not exist.

:

He wasn't in the least surprised by Dean's scepticism. 

His brother was a hands-on person who believed and was interested in what he saw before his eyes; his parents, his kingdom, his subjects and his brother.  
He wasn't given to flights of fantasy, he left that to Sam, though the only things close to the supernatural that Sam had encountered so far were his vivid dreams, culminating in the most recent one experienced just a few nights before the taking of Lawrencia, a nightmare which had eerily come to pass.

:

He fingered the bracelet and the silver ring Frank had given them and fervently hoped these seemingly ordinary objects really could defend them from evil. He glanced over at the perplexed face of his big brother. He had hero-worshipped Dean since the moment he'd come to understand what a brother was, following him around like a shadow for most of his eighteen years.

The only time they'd spent apart was when they catered to the different aspects of their personalities, Sam deep in scholastic discussions about whatever information passing sages would bring to the castle, and Dean with Sir Robert, honing his knowledge of weapons and arms.

 

:

Franck, on the other hand, was dwelling on what else he could whip up to offer ulterior protection to the young men seated across from him, and Missouri was hoping everything was alright with Bobby and Rufus.

She was about to rise and get Dean another slice of pie, having realised it was one of the things that brought a smile to his face and calmed his worries, when she stopped dead in mid action, her face screwing up in distress.

"No!" She cursed silently. "Please let me have made a mistake this time!" But she knew she rarely did. Rufus had reached out to her and she'd just sensed his capture.

Two alert pairs of eyes latched on to her, the third still immersed in his magical remedies.

:

"Missouri?" Dean frowned. "Is something wrong?

"They've been captured," she blurted out, too upset to use any verbal safeguards in communicating the bad news.

This time the third pair of eyes joined in to stare in shock.

 

She stood for a moment in sad contemplation, and then galvanized herself in to action. " Come, we must make ready, for we don't have much time before Azazel's troops invade the shelter of our valley."

 

:

The stool clattered to the stone floor as Dean pushed back angrily from the table.

"I KNEW it! They should never have gone. It was on me to risk my life, not them. I should never have listened to any of you!" And with that he flung open the door and strode off into the blackness outside.

 

Sam's eyes followed his sibling's exit and sighed. Any calmness Dean had acquired by taking out his fury on wood chopping had evaporated. Better to let him blow off some steam before affronting a battle with his elder brother.

He concentrated his attention on Missouri.

"What happened? Explain it to us." His soothing voice and wide eyes doing their best to calm the usually unflappable Missouri's worries.

"They were betrayed by someone in the Castle, but Rufus doesn't know who, and they've been taken to the dungeons. That's all I can get. The cloak of magic hanging over the Castle is blocking out nearly everything even my psychic powers. Now, young Sam, you must prepare, for you and your brother must flee this valley.  
Though I'm sure Bobby and Rufus will resist telling them where you're hiding, by using a location spell on Bobby, they'll be able to trace his provenance back to here."

 

Sam's puppy-dog stare deepened. "Where can we go, Missouri? Lawrencia is our home. We've hardly ever set foot outside of the Realm."

"Your journey is more complicated than even I had thought, but nonetheless, you cannot remain here. Go to your brother and comfort him, for you are the only one who can, while I prepare what you will need for your journey"

 

"But…" Sam objected.

"You have no choice my child, or do you think two boys, an old man-witch and a plump psychic can overcome an army of soldiers?"

Sam nodded unhappily, knowing the truth of Missouri's words and he went outside to search for his distressed brother.

 

Dean was at the place he had now adopted as his own; perched on the flat rock at the entrance to the hot-spring grotto.

"Dean," he called softly.

"Go away, Sam! I don't want to be consoled. Just leave me alone."

"Dean," Sam tried again, putting his own anguish and pain into his voice, knowing his big brother could never stand by uncaring when Sam needed him.

 

"Sam, what do you want from me?" Dean sighed. : "It seems we've done nothing but have the self-same conversation since we set foot in this valley. I get mad; you come after me to soothe my ruffled feathers, then something else happens and you return to pull me back to my senses. Then it begins all over again, like a wheel going round and round in circles, never stopping."

There was nothing Sam could say for that's exactly how it had played out up till now, but he still had to try, especially with this last powerful kick in the ass Missouri had just delivered.

Where on Earth were they going to go?

 

"Dean," Sam murmured. "I'd give anything not to have to say this but Missouri is afraid Azazel can trace our position using some sort of witchcraft on Bobby, and that his troops will be here as soon as they have it.

Missouri says we have to flee."

At the words Dean turned towards his baby brother, a harsh raucous laugh came from his throat.

"I'm not going anywhere!"

Dean opened his arms wide and lifted his head, eyes glazed and shining with unshed tears. :"They want his Royal Highness Prince Dean Winchester, well they can have me. I'll wait here nice and quiet for them to arrive and then I'll relax in a comfortable cell until they kill me. I don't care. Sam! Our world has been turned upside down, so I'm just as well getting destroyed right along with it."

Sam played his winning card, and with a pleading voice addressed his brother.

"And what about me, Dean? Will you be happy if they kill me in front of your eyes, or torture me? Is that what you want? If you want us to give up and die, it would be much easier and probably less painful, if we launch ourselves off this rock and shatter against the foot of the valley"

 

Dean's eyes lost the crazy unsettling look they'd displayed, and focused on his little brother.

"If anyone touches you they die," was his cold statement.

"But if you're in a cell or dead, there will be no-one there to protect me!" Sam hoped he'd gotten through to his brother, and he must've as Dean came towards him and enfolded him in a violent hug, causing Sam's arms to move in turn and hold his distraught big brother close.  
When they had pulled apart, Dean set off towards the cottage.

"Come on, Bitch, we have to prepare for our little journey! You better be able to keep up with me or I'll leave you behind."  
"What are you saying, Jerk. My legs are longer than yours. It's you who'll be left behind!" 

: Sam grinned. Dean was back to himself and despite the unknown future that stretched before them, he was optimistic.

 

Lawrencia Castle. Dungeons.  
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

John heard the commotion at the far end of the cell block and wondered just what other poor souls had been confined to his ex-dungeons.

TBC


	16. On The Run

Missouri threw a sympathetic glance at the two boys as they entered the room.

Dean seemed much calmer than when he'd stalked off after hearing the news of Bobby and Rufus' capture. Sam followed placidly behind his brother, clearly relieved by Dean's positive reaction to his little talk at the mouth of the grotto.

 

She understood.

These two young men, despite their extensive education in the Arts and in weapons training, were still infants when it came to the harshness of the world outside the sheltered nest of the Royal Castle and the Realm of Lawrencia; a kingdom singular for its enlightened rule.

She'd be sorry to see them thrown to the wolves, but their path was fated to take them out of this valley and into the unknown.

 

While they were absent she'd gathered a few bits and pieces for them; a spare set of clothing, two well-used woollen cloaks belonging to Franck, a couple of water-pouches and some coins she still had from their travelling days.  
She'd also procured two ample leather pouches that could be slung diagonally over their shoulders to leave their arms free.

 

When they were ready to leave she'd add some food; mostly bread and cheese plus some apples and what was left of the pie for her princely pie-lover.

She knew Franck also had a few objects to give them, but on foot any heavier baggage than this would be a liability. They'd just have to learn to fend for themselves as they went along, she sighed.

 

She had another little article for them but wasn't quite sure how to approach the subject. Missouri knew that all manner of diseases could be picked up while frequenting certain types of women and though the young men had far more pressing problems to deal with, she didn't want them adding illness and disease.

:

:

"We've discussed things, Missouri," Dean announced. "And we've decided that for now, flight is our wisest move. If we too are captured by Azazel then there will be no hope at all for our beloved kingdom.

It pains me to leave our loved ones behind in danger, but if we are captured, then all their sacrifices will have been in vain."

"Wise words, Dean," the older woman approved.

"I have prepared some things for you to take. It's not much, but on foot without horses, anything more will weigh you down."

"Don't worry, Missouri, we'll have to learn to look out for ourselves," Dean nodded. He turned to his brother with an encouraging smile, receiving one in return.

 

She pulled out the two little cloth bags she'd stored in her apron pocket and affronted the spiny topic.  
"Ahem," she waved the little pouches in front of the two pairs of curious eyes. "In here are two items for your protection against disease should you "entertain" any lady friends on your travels. They are used extensively in my homeland and must be worn just before, hmm...," she coughed, clearing her throat, "The moment of penetration, like a glove."

The boys exchanged quizzical glances before the meaning dawned on both simultaneously, a blush spreading up their cheeks.

"Hmm..., eh..., thanks," was Dean's embarrassed reply. "Don't worry, we'll be careful"

She nodded and added the pouches to their satchels.

.

If Franck has anything to contribute, now would be the time, she mused, and as if on cue her husband dutifully arrived with two belt pouches.

"Sam, Dean. I've added various ointments, potions and medicines which may serve you on your journey, as well as a book of spells and other sortileges which will be useful for you to study and commit to memory."  
He plonked an ancient tome into a surprised Sam's hands.  


"Furthermore, on this piece of parchment are written the names of two friends who journeyed with us some years ago and who will surely give you shelter in my name, should find yourselves in need." He slipped a folded piece of paper in the frontispiece of the book before consigning it definitely into Sam's keep.

"Now come, you must prepare for your journey. Azazel will be too occupied with his Coronation tonight and will surely leave any interrogation of Bobby and Rufus until tomorrow. That will give you a good head start before he finds this valley."

"What about you and Franck. You will be coming with us will you not?" Sam directed his heartfelt query to the couple.

"No." Missouri replied firmly. "This is our home and we will not leave it."

"But…"

"Don't worry Sam, we'll stay hidden when the troops of Azazel come, and even if they do find us, there will be no evidence to show you two have ever been here. We will attend to that! Now go and make ready. Franck will show you a secret way through the mountain. There's an opening which goes from behind the pool in the grotto, and emerges on a hillside not far from the main road to the neighbouring realm of Arkansia."  
:  
The boys quickly retrieved the daggers and swords they'd taken from their horses when they'd left the animals behind, and were returning to the kitchen when Dean happened to glance through an open doorway into what he assumed must be Missouri and Franck's bedroom. His gaze fell on a small sculpture set on a table by the bed.

 

"Missouri," he called, "I noticed an unusual figure in your room as I passed. What is it.?"

"Come, my curious princeling. I will show it to you," she smiled, leading him to her bedroom, which was draped with exotically-designed cloths.

"This," she pointed to the little statuette. "Is an animal native to my grandparents' land of origin. It is known by the name of Impala."

"Impala, huh! It certainly has elegant horns," commented Dean, admiringly.

"It's very, very, fast," added Missouri. "Its predators rarely manage to catch it."

 

She returned to the kitchen where she packed the few objects and the food into the satchels. The boys threaded the waist pouches on to their belts, settled the leather satchels over their shoulders and donned the cloaks.

They were rather short, as was expected, being Franck's, but they were woven of warm wool, precious companions on a cold night.

There was nothing more to be done except leave, but the four people in the room wanted to do everything save separate.

 

Dean broke the impasse and came forward slowly to embrace Missouri in a two-armed hug which she returned in kind, while whispering in his ear. "Always stay beside your brother. The nearer you stand to one another, the stronger you are, and any magic you attempt will function more powerfully. I sensed when I first embraced you that your souls are one. You and your brother share the same soul, something I had never encountered before.  
God go with you, my boy." So saying, she released the shocked Dean and took Sam into her warm embrace, telling him to look out for his brother.

"You don't have to worry about that," Sam quipped tearfully. "If I don't keep an eagle eye on him, he just gets into trouble! How can we ever thank you, Missouri. You took us in when you didn't have any reason to, and now we've put you and your husband in danger."

"Franck and I are used to looking out for ourselves. Don't you worry your pretty little head about that," she asserted confidently, giving him a pat on the cheek.  
:

Franck came forward and gave each prince a one–armed hug urging Sam to study the book he'd given him, as its contents could prove very useful.

Sam nodded in acquiescence, not trusting himself to speak.

They turned towards the door, eyes wet, while Frank whispered something to his wife and prepared to accompany them.

 

Arrived at the pool, Frank moved them forward to where a narrow opening lay hidden behind an unsuspicious rock formation.

The older man lit the oil-swathed torch he'd taken from the cottage, consigning it into Dean's hand.

"This will allow you to arrive at the other end of the tunnel without breaking a leg or shattering your skulls against some unseen rock. Good luck, my young charges, until we meet again."  


With that he turned and disappeared through the opening of the grotto leaving Sam and Dean alone.

:

The brothers stood in contemplation. The last person to share their desperate moments had just left them. Now they only had each other.

Dean exchanged a brave smile with his little brother. "Don't worry, Sammy, as long as I'm around nothing bad's gonna to happen to you."

Ruefully Sam returned his smile, wanting to believe those courageous words.

 

"Come on then, big brother. Lead on into the dark."

 

Dean gingerly moved beyond the entrance and into the tunnel, Sam close on his heels.

They heard a scurried rustling as they went forward. "Uhgg! I hope there are no rats in here. You know how I hate them, Sammy."

"Seriously, Dean, They're more scared of us than you of them, that's why they're scampering away, " Sam laughed, his voice echoing hollowly in the dank space.

"Anyway, don't worry. If I see one attacking you, I'll defend your honour!"

 

"Bitch"

"Jerk"

 

They went forward as fast as they could given the unknown terrain and the barely sufficient illumination from the flickering torch, but the end of the tunnel was not yet in sight when the torch seemed to want breathe its last.

Luckily enough a faint glimmer of subdued light could be seen as they turned a sharp corner.

They both breathed a sigh of relief, for the thought of trying to navigate the rest of the black passageway without any light was daunting.

 

The boys emerged thankfully from the mountainside and slithered their way down the steep slope into the protective haven of a nearby forest.

 

"Dean," Sam observed when he'd caught his breath. "We're never going to get very far on foot. Without horses, we're at a great disadvantage:"

"Well, Sammy. We're just going to have to procure ourselves two, aren't we?" Dean smirked suggestively.

 

"Whaat… You mean steal them?" was Sam's aghast reply.

"Can you think of any other way of acquiring them, Sam? If so, I'm up for suggestions."

 

Sam exhibited a bitch-face energetic enough to light up the dark, but he eventually shrugged his shoulders, unable to question his brother's logic.

 

 

The Castle  
::::::::::::::::::::

The celebrations were well underway at the gaily lit Castle.

The new king and his lovely wife were seated at the top table, being toasted by Azazel's followers. Too bad the expression on the Queen's face was more adapt for a funeral than a wedding, but eminently suitable, for she fervently hoped the evening's festivities would end with Azazel's demise at her hands.

TBC


	17. A Reluctant Bride

Garth came out of the stables, whistling under his breath.  
He'd been tranquillized by Sir Robert's appearance. Perhaps all was not yet lost and the usurper could be ousted from Lawrencia.  
He watched as the Jesters crossed the unusually silent courtyard and entered the kitchens.  
"So far so good." He breathed a sigh of relief.  
:  
As he turned to attend to the watering and foraging of the two tired mules, he caught sight of a familiar figure making its way over to one of Azazel's soldiers.  
"Now just what would HE have to say to them?" Garth wondered.  
He slipped into the dark shadow cast by the open stable door and watched.  
After exchanging a couple of words with one of them, the figure walked back to the spot from whence he'd come.  
:  
Garth lingered a moment, waiting to see what, if anything, would happen.  
He stole a quick look around but all of his fellow stable boys were immersed in their tasks and no-one was paying any particular attention to him.  
He watched the soldier send a subaltern into the castle, then gulped with horror as the capture of the two jesters played out before his eyes.  
He turned towards the shadows. Was it possible that HE was the traitor?  
Garth was flabbergasted. It couldn't be! Or could it?  
:  
He made his way surreptitiously over to the kitchens where he witnessed the usually stoic and unflappable Lady Ellen in tears.  
One more thing to add to the list of vengeance he promised himself, giving one more glance at the figure leaning unperturbed against the Castle wall.  
:  
:  
:The Castle dungeons  
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  


Bobby and Rufus kept up a valiant struggle all the way to the dungeons but to no avail, they were outnumbered by the soldiers who threw them disparagingly into a cell and slammed the door, the keys turning in the lock with a resounding clang.  
:  
"Well. That went well!" was Bobby's snide remark after the exit of the clattering soldiers had returned the dungeons to their relative silence.  
"Two jesters will pass unnoticed! Unnoticed my ass!"  
"Come on, Bobby. There was no way they could have recognised us!" Rufus flapped around the cell, agitated.

"Not you, maybe, cause you fit the part of a fool perfectly," Bobby snorted. "But someone must have recognised me."  
"I tell you that's impossible!" Rufus' voice rose an octave. "No-one could have seen Sir Robert Singer in that Jester," he repeated testily.

"Well, Ellen sure did," was the gruff reply, remembering the happiness of the short interlude spent with his beloved wife.  
"That's just because you turned your goofy eyes full power on her; that's how she knew it was you, but I didn't see you eye-sexing anyone else along the way!"  
:  
"Oh, just shut up, Rufus!"  
“I'm telling you, Bobby. Someone sold us out to Azazel. How about that stable boy?" continued the dark-skinned man. "Perhaps he isn't as trustworthy as you think!"

"No, it wasn't him," Bobby stated flatly.  
"You don't know that Bobby, my friend!"  
"Look, I'm not going to repeat myself again. It wasn't him, alright!"  
"Whatever you say. You're the boss," Rufus acknowledged, raising his hands.  
Bobby just qualified his companion's statement with a sarcastic eye-roll.  
:  
Rufus sauntered across the cell to the door, crouching down to examine the lock.  
"Don't bother! I had the blacksmith upgrade all the dungeon and fetter locks before this whole thing blew up in our faces!" Bobby sighed.  
"Very professional, Bobby. I'm impressed! Can't say the same for your furnishings though. They leave a little to be desired," he grumbled as he flopped down beside Bobby on the hard wooden slats that passed for a bed.

"Did you hear what Azazel was planning for Sam and Dean? He was going to wed them off to those two harpies we passed in the corridor."  
"Well now, that's a bit uncharitable, Bobby. After all they were rather easy on the eye."  
"Huh. What do you know about women? So far the female sex has been clever enough to avoid having anything to do with you! Good job the princes are safe and sound in the valley for now."  
"Amen to that brother," Rufus agreed, the two settling down to a companionable silence, wondering what the next day would bring.

Little did they know that at the other end of the cell-block the dethroned king was throwing out ideas for his escape to his not very attentive four-legged furry friend.

:  
:The Queen's Bedchamber  
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  


Mary had suffered stoically through all the preparations.  
There were no longer any of her own trusted servants to attend her, only the sullen ones belonging to the two little vixens that now infested her home.  
Worthy daughters for their dog of a father, she fumed silently.  
:  
What was she turning into, she asked herself? She who had been all smiles and graces, cosseted and pampered by her husband, sons and ladies, was now contemplating cold-blooded murder.  
She had managed to slip the little dagger into the lining of her dress pretending to search for some ribbons in her work-basket and its hard touch felt reassuring under her hand.  
She had refused to go through with the wedding ceremony until she had proof that John was still alive and had insisted on having a message delivered to him, wanting a reply.

John's writing was familiar to her and no-one could have forged it, so when his answer came back she knew it was true. The thought of him so near and yet so unreachable made her eyes well with tears.  
She nodded her head in consent to the farce of a wedding.  
:  
She had been gleefully informed by Megan of the capture of Sir Robert and her sympathy went out to Ellen. She'd been happy that Robert had gotten away.  
Now he found himself in the dungeons along with her own beloved John.  
And what of her sons?  
Had Sir Robert found and warned them?  
Where were they now? And what would happen to them without even Robert to look out for them? For the moment she knew she'd have answers to none of these questions.  
:  
:  
When she thought she could take no more of the simpering and posturing of the new "King" and his nauseating daughters at the Coronation festivities, a halt was finally called and the newly-weds were escorted to the bedchamber accompanied by bawdy jokes and innuendoes.  
"Now my dear," breathed Azazel when they were alone. "I'll take payment for the way you had me tossed out in disgrace from you father's realm, making me the laughing stock of the Court."  
"You raped and nearly killed one of my youngest serving-girls,” she jeered. ”You were lucky my father did not cast you into the dungeons and throw away the key."  
"She was of no importance and you should've kept your pretty little mouth closed instead of running off to your father. But that is in the past and now, my dear. On to more important things.  
It is a husband's right to see the goods he has just acquired, so commence."

Panic rose in her breast. She'd hoped to be able to slip the dagger under her pillow while he was undressing.  
She was afraid if she played her hand too early something could go wrong and John would suffer for it. When she pulled out the dagger, she had to make sure it struck home and so she tried to play for time.  


"Give me leave to undress in private and await you in bed."  
"You are no simpering maiden, my dear and even if you were, it would make no difference. Remove your clothing now, in front of me. You may refuse, but the message you received earlier from your ex-husband will be the last he'll ever write."  
:  
She acquiesced. He had the winning hand, she had to think of John, so she blocked her mind out from all that awaited her that night.  
:  
:  
The Valley  
..................  
Franck hurried back to his wife.  
All evidence of there having been other persons in the valley had to be wiped out and a dissimulation spell cast, so there could be no way to trace the presence of the princes and their flight through the grotto.  
Then he and Missouri would retreat to his laboratory which was well hidden in a natural cave under the house, built in that position on purpose so he could access the natural cavity from his bedroom via a well-concealed trap-door in the floor.  
It was further protected by a vanishing spell.  
The only way to find it would be to burn down the house but even then, the laboratory had another exit which could be used in an emergency.  
They had enjoyed over ten years of tranquil life in this valley but Franck knew everything came in cycles and perhaps this one was ending now.  
:  
:  
:  
Sam and Dean made their way towards the edge of the forest hoping to encounter the road of which Frank had spoken.  
They moved quietly one behind the other, now and then an arm shooting out to steady whichever of the two had tripped on some root or stumbled into some hidden depression in the ground.

Each was taken up with his own thoughts.

Dean pondered the words Missouri had whispered in his ear.  
What did it mean that he and his brother shared the same soul? She must have been mistaken. He had always been told that it was one person, one soul.  
It was undeniable however that when he and Sam were physically close to one another they were always at the top of their game, whatever the activity they were engaged in, and even when they were just idling they felt complete in each other's company.  
Perhaps that's what sharing a soul meant he mused, nearly tripping over a gnarly root in his inattention, saved only by the steadying hand of his little brother.  
:  
When he had time he would talk to Sam about it.  
Maybe in those books he loved to pore over, there'd be more information, but for now they had to think about getting their hands on two horses.

Sam 's mind was occupied with a series of problems, from the fate of his parents to the incumbent necessity of turning into horse thieves, something considered a serious crime in Lawrencia, as a horse was an important asset for all, from the farmers to the nobles.  
However, if his brother thought it was the best thing to do, he'd follow his lead unquestioningly.  
:  
Finally the trees started to thin out and the meanders of a road could be seen in the distance.  
The two fugitives exchanged glances. Left or right, was the unspoken question that passed between them.

Sam remembered the piece of parchment that Frank had placed in the frontispiece of the book and he pulled it from his satchel.  
There was only a pale slice of moon in the dark cloud-scudded sky, but Sam manage to make out the word Arkadelphia, the capital town of the Royal House of Arkansia.  
:  
"East it is then, Sammy," Dean smiled laying a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "Now we just have to find more comfortable and rapid transport than our own two feet."

Sam, bitch-faced him, still unhappy with the idea of becoming a horse thief.  
"Yeah, from pampered princes to potential horse thieves and criminals. We've certainly come up in the world."

"It's not our fault, Sammy. This has been forced upon us. Lawrencia was attacked. It's not as if you invited them in, Sam, so stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over. Now come on, let's coast the road but as soon as we hear anyone approaching we dive back into the forest.

“Okay." Sam's nod was duly given and the two commenced walking side by side towards the unknown.  
TBC


	18. Arkadelphia

The two fugitives kept walking throughout the night, but the going was slow. Without a faster method of transport, they'd no hope in hell of getting far enough away from Lawrencia and Azazel.

 

The morning sun had just risen, its rays warming the cold night air, when the two tired young men came in sight of a wayside inn.

 

"Dean!" Sam placed a hand on his brother's arm pulling him to a stop. "We've been walking all night. I need to catch my breath. Can we not rest for a while?"  
Dean pulled him farther into the adjoining undergrowth, concealing them effectively from any travellers on the road to and from the inn.

His sibling's face was lined with fatigue and Dean decided that danger or no danger, they could both do with a moment's rest. At the slow-moving pace, which was all they were managing to keep on foot, a mile or two's difference wouldn't matter all that much.

 

"Come on, Sammy, breakfast time. Missouri's bread and cheese sure sounds good," he joked wryly, his own stomach rumbling at the mention of food.

 

They flopped down under the nearest tree; their backs bolstered by the sturdy trunk, and ate frugally of the simple fare Missouri had packed for them.

In the bottom of the satchel was the leftover pie wrapped in a white cloth. Dean broke it in half and held a piece out to Sam.

He motioned with his hand for Sam to take it when the younger boy looked hesitant.

"You eat it, Dean. You love that pie."

Dean looked at him as if he was stupid.

"From here on in everything gets divided in two, little brother. I eat pie, you eat pie. You don't eat pie, I don't eat pie. You understand Sam?"

 

Sam understood only too well. His brother was laying down the rules of their relationship from now on.

The bad and the good would be shared equally between them, whether it be food, clothes or anything else that came their way.

Sam took the portion of pie, further sealing their pact of brothers, companions and partners.

 

With their stomachs partly replenished and the remaining morsels of food wrapped and stored in their satchels, Dean turned to his brother. "That Hostel up ahead is sure to have guests, and that means horses.

You stay here Sammy and I'll go and take a look at what the place offers to two would-be horse thieves."

 

Sam's quick pull on his arm put a stop to that, as with one penetrating bitch-face he conveyed to Dean all his displeasure with the idea.

Dean sighed resignedly. " Very well, BOTH of us will take a look at the Inn!"

"We're partners Dean. Where you go, I go. Try and keep that concept in mind, okay! All we need is for one of us to get separated or captured; we have to protect each other's backs.""

"Let's go then partner," smiled the elder in accordance with Sam's plea.

 

They took an indirect route across the road and round to the rear of the establishment, stationing themselves to monitor any activity from behind a handy bush.

Tied up beside the ramshackle construction that did its duty as a stable, were three horses, placidly munching their way through the bale of hay that had been provided for them.

 

Sam launched an unhappy glance at Dean.

"Sammy, we've been through this a hundred times. I know it goes against your sentiments of fair-play but you're just going to have to push all that chivalry stuff down. We need transport and stealing is the only way. I hate to add to your worries, but I'm afraid if we want to survive, horse-stealing is probably one of the lesser crimes we're going to be forced to commit."

 

Dean studied the livestock on offer and exchanged sour glances with his brother, Sam vocalizing what Dean was thinking.

"We'll be lucky if those nags hold up under our weight, let alone take us anywhere. We'd probably be faster on foot!" the younger Winchester observed.

Dean agreed. "Yeah, they look as if they'd keel over at the first gust of wind."

 

While they were considering what to do, a cacophony of sounds announced the arrival of new customers to the Inn and the neighing of horses could clearly be heard among them. The boys exchanged a smug glance, perhaps there would be better pickings here.  
Luck seemed to be with them, as a string of livestock composed of farm animals and a few healthier looking horses, entered the beaten-earth yard, probably on their way to a market in one of the nearby towns.

 

The brothers' eyes met in complete understanding and Dean flashed a cocky smile at his brother.  
They waited until the animals had been settled next to the trough and had drunk their fill of water, then they made their way towards two of the horses Dean's expert eye had decided were the best choices.

The animals neighed and milled about nervously as they picked up the scent of the two unknowns.

The princes quickly untied the two mounts they'd chosen, and the angry owner ran out of the door yelling and shouting but unable to do anything other than wave his arms at the two thieves riding off at breakneck speed.

 

The brothers held on for dear life. The horses, being bereft of saddles and only sporting the simplest of bridles, made the going more difficult but not impossible, they had both mounted bareback before; one of the skills included in Bobby's intensive training.

As soon as they were far enough away, they reined in their lathering mounts and Dean felt the urge to laugh, the rush of adrenaline that had accompanied him from the moment they had fled from the Inn, needing to release itself in some form.

:

:

He threw back his head and erupted into mirthful hilarity, white teeth gleaming.

At first Sam regarded him with puzzled eyes but Dean's unbridled roars of laughter were infectious and although he tried to resist, he soon caved and both laughed until the tears and lack of breath made them stop.

"Enough Dean," spluttered Sam, wiping his eyes.

"We have to get off this road. Without saddles or trimmings we're too easily recognisable; if not as horse thieves, at least of journeying in an odd manner."

"Ever the logical little brother, Sammy!" Dean acknowledged. "Let's dive deeper into the woods. The going will be much slower but we'll be more difficult to follow."

The brothers turned their mounts towards the trees and disappeared as if by magic into the thick foliage.

:

:

They made their way east, directing their horses over the rough terrain, halting for the night next to a spring that cascaded down from a minuscule waterfall, forming a little pool before meandering its way through the trees.

They tied the tired animals to a slim tree trunk in easy reach of the stream and left them to their well earned rest.

The brothers refreshed their faces and hands in the running water, finished off what food they had left in the satchels and lay down to sleep, side by side.

Dean was a light sleeper when he was in "watch over Sammy" mode and he placed his dagger at the ready next to his right hand.

Whether it was the chilly night air or the need for comfort, the two brothers found themselves curled one into the other just as Bobby had found them the first morning of their flight from the captured castle.

That night they were lucky for no inhabitant of the wooded domain disturbed the two sleeping humans.  


;

:

"How far are we from Arkadelphia?" Dean asked his brother when the next day found them continuing their careful way through the dense greenery.

"Well we're not exactly going in a straight line, Dean but we can't be too far away. Once into the neighbouring kingdom we should be a bit safer. I doubt King Adrian of Arkansia will have any reason to hand us over to Azazel, even if he ever finds out we're in his realm," Sam declared.

"I don't know Sam! How do we know who is or isn't in cahoots with Azazel. We have to consider everyone as a potential danger to us."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right, Dean," was Sam's unhappy reply.

: 

:

The turrets of Arkadelphia came into view just as the sun was starting to set behind the far mountains. The two weary travellers entered the city through the main gate, leading the horses on foot, thinking it would be less likely to cause undue interest.

Sam had committed to memory the name of the friend Franck had given them and after having asked what seemed a good half of the population for directions, they eventually found themselves before a humble, timber-fronted dwelling.

Dean eyed it cautiously. "It looks as if it's about to keel over at any minute," was his unkind opinion.

Sam bitch-faced him. "It's not as if we have a vast choice of options, Dean." And he knocked on the listing front door.

He continued to knock, and eventually the door was pulled squeakily open by a lean young man.

:

"Who disturbs my rest?" was his unfriendly greeting.

The brothers exchanged perplexed glances. Sam shrugged and puppy-eyed him, trying to be as sympathetic as possible.

"We were given this address by…" Sam felt a bony hand go over his mouth while Dean stared ominously, ready to put a sharp dagger through the incautious person that had just laid a hand on his little brother.

:

"Shhhhhh...! No names!"

Sam's eyes widened into a "What the Hell" look while Dean raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to think.

"Nod if you understand," the strange person continued. Sam did as he was asked and nodded convincingly, while still bemused by the whole situation.

Once his mouth had been released, Sam lowered his voice ad whispered in the guy's ear. "Franck and Missouri sent us to see these people." He pulled out the note.

"I presume you can read?" Dean asked, irritated by the whole scene.

"Come on in," the stranger declared jovially, his attitude changing completely after having taken vision of the note.

"Any friend of "you know who." He waved the note in the air. "Is a friend of mine".

The name is Ash by the way."

TBC


	19. New Friends

The brothers shrugged, raised their eyebrows, and followed their mercurial new acquaintance into the building. Unlike the exterior the inside was better kept, composed of one all-purpose room with a door in the back wall. 

"Now that we're inside, we can talk more freely," Ash announced indicating a well-used wooden table, with short benches on either side.

"I think there's some fresh beer left over from last night," he muttered. 

He yanked out an earthenware jug from the little dresser which was the only other piece of furniture in the room, apart from a large open fire-place, clearly used for cooking as well as heating and another smaller side-table, with kitchen utensils and some plates scattered casually upon it.

"Sit yourselves down and give me your news of Franck and Missouri," he declared expansively, as he plonked two tankards down on the table in front of the Winchesters, who were following his antics with unabashed interest.

He filled the cups to the brim and sat down opposite them, one elbow on the table as if waiting in anticipation for them to begin.

Dean glanced at his brother, indicating that the floor was his, and so Sam explained their plight, while Ash's attention grew gradually more intense.

: 

"That's some story you've got there, boys, or should I call you princes?" Ash commented eventually, throwing back his head in thought, running a hand through his long hair.

"We can no longer aspire to such titles. Those who have lost a kingdom can at the best be called careless, and at the worst fools," Dean remarked bitterly, receiving a consolatory look from Sam.

"Well, now," Ash answered. "First of all I must confess to not being one of the names on Franck's note " He held up a leisurely hand as he saw Dean pulling out his dagger.

"What I mean is that they were my parents, " he qualified quickly and watched with relief as Dean lowered his blade.

"They did the rounds of the townships with Franck and Missouri more than twenty years ago, but Franck couldn't have known that less than a year ago they both passed away, one following the other as they had always done."

The brothers exchanged heartfelt looks; they could relate to that.

: 

"However in memory of the great friendship and reciprocal help they gave one another, any friend of Franck and Missouri is a friend of ours."

"Ours'?" questioned Dean.

"Yes, my sister and I, but she's out at the moment. Now," he continued, "Just what can I do for you?"

"Good question," replied Dean resignedly. "We concentrated all our energies in getting out of Lawrencia, and safely away from Azazel, so much so that we haven't really given much thought as to how to actually get the kingdom back," he admitted ruefully. "Or if we ever can!"

"Hmm, well I would say that the odds are a little stacked towards this Azazel and against you two," Ash stated flatly, managing to make the brothers feel even worse.

"Thanks for that!" was Dean's sarcastic reply.

"Just stating things as they are, man," was the laconic rejoinder.

"He's right Dean," Sam broke in passionately. "Our mission is nigh impossible. We can never hope to defeat the army of Azazel by ourselves!"

"Don't talk like that, Sammy!" Dean berated him angrily. "Azazel didn't exactly have to fight the Hundred Years' War to take the Castle. He used treachery and subterfuge, helped along by the Winchester House's own smug sense of security, and we must turn his same methods back on him."

Sam's eyes met Dean's, silently apologising for his momentary defeatist attitude while renewing all his faith, support and love for his big brother.

Ash observed curiously as the two young men held an entire conversation by just looking into one another's eyes.

He coughed and the two pairs of eyes broke contact. "Well," he boasted, "If it's subterfuge you want, you've come to the right place!"

: 

The creaking of the front door announced the arrival of the other occupant of the little house, and the two princes rose to their feet. Respect for a lady had been inculcated into them since they were children.

: 

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" she purred as she took in the pleasurable sight of the two handsome if somewhat scruffy young men who had just risen to their feet, her obvious appreciation underlined by her suggestive eye-roaming.

"Now, now, sister," Ash drawled. "It's not what you think. These two are friends of Franck and Missouri, come to ask us for aid."

The woman's attitude changed a little but the appreciation in her eyes remained.

"Huh, and just what do they think we can do for them?" she enquired.

Dean's hackles had risen at her blatant inspection of himself and his brother, but she was a lady and therefore to be treated with the greatest of respect, so he held back on any prickly remarks and instead came forth with the standard flowery compliment. "My gracious lady, we expect nothing from your gentile self, but to be able to thank you for any shelter or help that you may be able to offer two miserable travellers such as our two unworthy selves."

It came out courteously but rather too pompously, Sam thought and he grinned, earning a stare from Dean and the mouthed epithet. "Bitch".

"Jerk!" his grinning brother replied, completely unfazed by Dean's withering glare.

: 

She made her way over to Dean and with an amused smirk she mocked him, "Well, now, I m sure that no prince could have said what you just did, any better."

"Maybe," her brother broke in, matching his sister's smirk," That's because he IS a Prince, though temporarily without a kingdom"

Ash smiled. For once his quick-witted big sister had been taken by surprise.

However she soon recovered her snarky composure by announcing she was so sorry not to have adequate means to host such regal figures.

They stood there awkwardly until Ash refilled their tankards and the two princes took their places at the table again, while Ash's sister disappeared through the adjacent door; to refresh herself, so she said.

Although her attitude had rubbed Dean the wrong way, he wasn't impervious to her charms, her high spirits and feistiness were a breath of fresh air after the simpering young women with whom he was usually surrounded at Court.

Sam chortled to himself. He'd seen Dean's interest spark towards the handsome woman and anticipated the fiery interaction between them.

Dean was used to being courted and fawned upon by clinging and giggling females; his position as Crown Prince of a rich kingdom like Lawrencia and his own personal good looks making him an eye-catching target for ambitious mothers and princesses from far and wide.

Sam was curious to see just how he would manage now that he was no longer such a prized prey.

: 

Before long Ash's sister returned and took her place at the table. He made the formal introductions. "Sam, Dean, this is my sister, Pamela. Pamela these are two fugitive princes from Lawrencia, their Royal ex-Highnesses Sam and Dean," he joked.

The two brothers grimaced wryly at Ash's summary of their actual position.

Sam chirped in helpfully with, "You forgot to mention we haven't got more that a few pennies between us, so you can add destitute to the list."

"You did good there, little brother. Let's remind them that we can't even pay for their hospitality should they decide to give it," Dean commented ironically, earning himself a bitch-face from his younger brother.

"Boys, boys, I'm sure you'll be able to pay us back adequately for any help we can give you," Pamela cooed teasingly.

Ash rolled his eyes, well used to the attitude of his big sister in the company of such handsome young men.

: 

However she became deadly serious as she reported the street gossip she'd heard earlier.

"There is talk of a reward being offered by the new king for the capture of the two traitorous princes of Lawrencia, so you will have to be very careful if you go out, though most would never recognise two rich princes in the scruffy and poorly dressed boys you are now.

Is there anyone who might know your faces here in Arkadelphia?"

"Well," Dean answered glancing at his brother. "The Arkanasian Royal Family have been visitors at our parents' Court, and many of their attendants and servants would recognise us too; as would many of their men-at-arms. Also Sammy here had a little crush on the King's daughter Jessica, and certainly all of her hand maidens and ladies will remember him."

Dean smirked as he saw the blush come over his little brother's face but he just couldn't resist this chance at baiting him.

Sam's glare however promised vendetta and Dean knew that sooner or later it would be carried out; but it had been worth it!

In fact, Sam was silently going through a list of the most horrible pranks he could think of, to pay Dean back for revealing his teenage crush on the Princess Jessica, when he felt his head explode into piercing agony, and a vision of Azazel and his troops entering the valley that they had recently left, formed itself nebulously in his mind.

He fell to the floor; and seeming to come from miles away, he could make out his brother's panicked voice yelling his name.

"Sammy!"

TBC


	20. Visions

Dean smiled at Sam's expression, pissed by his mention of Jessica.

He could well imagine his brother was mentally running a sword through him, but he'd so enjoyed his sibling's reaction that he'd good-heartedly accept his punishment when Sam came up with whatever he thought appropriate.

He'd turned his attention back to the other two occupants of the room, when he heard the thump of a body hitting the floor and gazed down in horror at his brother writhing on the ground, clutching his head between his hands.

:

 

He fell to his knees beside Sam, petrified at the sight. 

His brother, apart from his inclination towards colds and fevers, had always been the picture of health. What the Hell could be happening to him?

He grasped his sibling's arms, not knowing what else to do, and as if by magic Sam stopped his thrashing and with an unwinking stare, aimed directly over Dean's right shoulder, seemed to be watching something visible only to himself.

:

"Sammy," Dean called desperately. "Sammy! Can you hear me? Sammy!" He gently shook the stiff body.

"Dean?" Sam said trembling, his eyes wide and bewildered, as he looked up into his big brother's face.

:

By this time Ash and Pamela had rounded the table and were silently watching the scene playing out before them.

:

"Dean," Sam repeated as if to assure himself that it was actually his brother holding him safely in his strong hands.

"I'm here, Sammy, it's okay!"

He tried to keep his voice even and comforting even though his instinct was to shake his little brother until he swore that he was fine and so put Dean's fears to rest.

"Come on, up you come," he urged, pulling his woozy sibling to his feet and settling him on the bench, ignoring the proffered arm Ash had held out to help pull the boy up.

"You wouldn't have some water?" Dean asked never taking his eyes from Sam.

:

A tankard was placed in his hand and Dean brought it to his brother's lips. "Here, drink this."

The fresh water seemed to have helped. Sam's face took on a healthier hue and his eyes focused more clearly on his brother.

"You feeling better?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, you can take your vice like hands off me now," he winced, for Dean's fingers were digging into his arms.

"Tomorrow I'm gonna have a nice set of bruises to show off," Sam bantered, hoping to reassure his worried big brother.

Dean let go, but his hands hovered nearby in case his sibling should decide that he wanted to give a repeat performance of what had just happened.

:

Now that Dean saw that he was more or less back to normal, he gave his anxiety free rein.

"What the Hell was that, Sam? You frightened the pants off me. I thought I was going to lose you," he ranted, as he began to pace the floor, agitating his arms, unheeding of the two stunned onlookers.

As he stomped past, Sam reached out and pulled him back towards him.

He waited until his brother's eyes met his own and repeated emphatically. "I'm fine, Dean," his puppy eyes going full throttle to calm his worried brother.

:

Dean sighed. "Fair enough, Sam. Now I want to know exactly what just happened!"

"I don't really know!" he said lowering his voice, not wanting Ash and his sister to hear. " I had some sort of vision...I ...I…saw Azazel."

Dean held back on his many questions and let Sam continue. "I saw him enter the Valley where Franck and Missouri live, with a band of soldiers and they spread out looking for us but they didn't find anyone, thankfully not even Franck and Missouri. I could see his eyes, Dean. It seemed as if he was looking straight at me. They were so cruel," his voice faltered.

"It's okay, Sam," Dean soothed. "That's good, isn't it? He didn't capture them!"

Sam nodded, reassured.

"There's something else Dean. When this vision or whatever it is came upon me, my head seemed to be splitting in half and the images were flashing senselessly in my mind, but as soon as you touched me the pain disappeared and the vision became as clear as if I was watching it play out a few inches before my eyes. It's as if you added power to me, making me see things more clearly and without pain," Sam's eyes looked up, bewildered.

Dean cast his mind back to what Missouri had said to him before they left the valley:-

"Always stay beside your brother. The nearer you stand to one another, the stronger you are, and any magic that you attempt will function more powerfully. I sensed when I first embraced you, that your souls are one. You and your brother share the same soul; something that I have never encountered before."

If that was true, and it was a big if, then by touching his brother he had somehow strengthened whatever "power of visions" Sam seemed to possess.

He had a lot to discuss with Sam but the two strangers who were present had already seen enough, and he wasn't willing to elaborate on anything else that concerned the two of them.

:

Those same persons had been silent witnesses to the little drama that had played out before them, knowing somehow that whatever was happening was exclusive to the two young brothers and that their intervention wouldn't have been welcomed.

Now however, Pamela spoke up.

"Is everything all right? Are you hurt young Sam?" All traces of her previous snarky attitude cancelled.

:

Sam seemed only now to remember that there were other people in the room and he quickly assured Pamela and Ash that he was fine, and that he'd suffered some kind of seizure, but it had passed without consequence.

Dean seconded that, and confirmed that everything was in order.

Ash and his sister exchanged glances but they could do nothing other than accept what they'd been told.

:

By this time, dusk was starting to fall and it was too late to go out for extra food, so Pamela brought out all the bread, cheese and cold meat she had left from earlier in the day and the four ate a frugal meal, washed down with Ash's ample supply of beer.

Afterwards, Ash and Dean went outside to secure and hide the horses, leading them round the back of the house where there was a small rectangle of grass and a water-trough, which they filled from the pump, to slake the animals' thirst.

:

The house had only one small bedroom where Pamela and Ash slept. Ash volunteered to give it to the new arrivals, but Sam and Dean assured him they'd be fine on the floor next to the fire.

Realising that they weren't going to change their minds, Pamela arrived with two rough woollen blankets and fixed up a nest next to the fireplace where the two boys could lie down.

The four of them passed another half-hour in some inconsequential small talk, until it got pitch dark outside, and the only light that illuminated the room was provided by the flickering flames in the hearth. The Winchesters were unwilling to elaborate on what had happened between them and Ash and Pamela didn't want to push the matter,

Ash apologised sheepishly for the fact they'd run out of candles and he and Pamela took their leave while Sam and Dean curled up on the makeshift bed, silently watching as the glowing embers of the once blazing logs gradually burned down to grey ashes.

:

"Sam, we have a lot to talk about…. "

But Dean saw that his little brother's eyes had already fluttered closed and he pulled on the edges of the blanket, trying to cover as much of their bodies as he could. Then too tired to do anything else, he fell into a dreamless sleep; his brother strategically pushed against the wall in the safer position and his knife just as strategically placed under the makeshift cushion.

To get to his brother they would have to pass over a very, very protective Dean Winchester and his very, very sharp knife.

:

Winchester Castle  
.........................

The morning after the Coronation, Bobby had been dragged up in front of Azazel who didn't bother wasting any time trying to interrogate him, but called in his two daughters who made short work of locating the area that Bobby had last been in, firstly by casting a spell over his person and then scrying over a rough map of the area.

Azazel was in a creepily good mood that morning. Between the successes of the past few days, the Coronation and the bedding of his new wife, he felt uncommonly charitable.

"Sir Robert," he purred. "Now that we have located the probable hideaway of our dear young princes, you are of no further use to me and I should have you hung, drawn and quartered, but as I am feeling magnanimous this morning, I'll have you escorted back to the dungeons with your "jester" friend for the moment."

He came threateningly into Bobby's personal space. "You had both better pray that my good mood lasts, otherwise you and the buffoon will be giving your last exhibition as the two hanging men!"

As he was manhandled back to his cell, Bobby could only pray that Missouri had become somehow aware of their capture and had sent the princes on their way.

:

:

Azazel's men finally found the hidden entrance to the Valley, but only after he had cursed the lot of them and sworn that he'd heap down the most painful tortures upon them if they didn't find the princes, but the peaceful green valley was empty except for what seemed to be an abandoned cottage.

The soldiers spent most of the day scouring every inch of the vale, finding no-one.

Azazel ordered a group of men to stay behind to guard the area just in case anyone should appear, and announced he'd be back on the morrow with his daughters to see if through their witchery, they could find traces of the fugitives.

His face was furious when he returned to the Castle and everyone moved quickly out of his way. Nobody envied his new wife that night.

TBC


	21. Friends With The Enemy

Dean awoke to his sibling's body cramming his personal space, searching for warmth.

Sam's feet, even with the hose still covering them, were freezing against Dean's legs. Any heat in the room had dissipated during the night with the extinguishing of the fire.

His little brother had recently overtaken him in height, although he was still growing according to the matrons back at court, but for now his body was wiry, all skin and bones, and it seemed that every one of them was poking into Dean's body.  
He moved away, but as if tied with a chain, Sam rolled over towards him.  
Little brothers!

 

The light filtered in unevenly through the small window next to the door, as Dean's mind reflected on the events of the past few days.  
What the Hell were they to do now?  
Added to everything else was this new complication of Sam having a vision. Was his brother a psychic like Missouri?

Dean was beginning to feel overwhelmed again.  
The burden on his shoulders was heavy. He hoped he'd have the strength to carry it.

Sam's breathing became more agitated, a sign that he was about to wake up, and sure enough his sibling's sleepy voice soon made itself heard with the canonical, "Dean. Is everything alright?"

"Other than the fact that your bony arms and legs have given me a set of bruises in places I didn't know I could get them, and your feet have turned my calves into blocks of ice. Yes!"  
His brother's contrite apology made him smile. "Sorry, I was just so cold"

"It's okay, Sam. I suppose I would've been even colder without you huddled up against me!"

 

Pulling himself up to yank on his boots, Dean observed that the door to the bedroom was open.  
He peeked in but it was empty.  
The fire hadn't been lit, so whatever it was that Ash and Pamela did for a living they were already out doing it.  
He must have been really exhausted last night not to have heard them leave this morning.

There was a stack of logs beside the hearth and soon he had a fire going. Part of Bobby's comprehensive field training, Dean smiled to himself.

By this time Sam had pulled himself up too, and he lumbered his way over to the table. His stomach rumbled, echoing loudly in the empty room.

Dean threw his brother an understanding glance. They had hardly eaten anything yesterday and the meal they'd shared with Ash and Pamela last night had been frugal at best.  
Well at least they could warm themselves beside the fire.

 

Dean knew he had to broach the subject of what happened last night.  
He'd hoped Sam would bring it up first, but his brother seemed concentrated only on warming his hands at the kindling fire.

"Sam," he said hesitantly.

"I know. I just wanted to put this off as long as possible because I don't know what to say,” his brother replied, already anticipating the question.  
Dean nodded. So many things had happened that it was becoming difficult to deal with them all.

"Sam," he continued, wading in. "Before we left Missouri, she told me something about us."

Sam's eyes widened in fear, afraid that Dean was about to impart some more unpleasant news.

 

The older boy looked his brother straight in the eye while he pronounced the incredible words.  
"She said we share the same soul, Sammy. Something she's never come across before," he finished turning his eyes to the floor, not sure what his little brother's reaction would be.

As Sam said nothing, he continued. 

"She added that any magic you perform, whatever THAT means, will work better the closer we stand together, because of the shared soul thing, I suppose," he tapered off, unsure.

At Sam's continuing silence, he lifted his eyes, to be amazed by the expression of contentment on his brother's face.

"I knew it!" Sam declared. "I knew there was something more between us, something special; how I always felt happier and more secure when you were around. I thought it was just because we were brothers but now I understand; it's more than that."

"You do? It is?" Dean replied, taken aback.

"Yes, Dean, and I'm sure you felt it too. Why pass your time with a snotty little kid like me, when you could've spent it with people your own age?  
If Missouri is right and we share the same soul, it makes us special, Dean! In some of the books back at the Castle there were treatises about it.  
It means," he looked carefully into his brother's eyes, "that we're bound together for all eternity, even after death!"

Dean considered the words his brother had so passionately pronounced, and realised they were all true.  
He'd spent nearly all his free time in the company of a little brother four years younger, when he could easily have left Sam to his own devices.

But he remembered how much better he used to feel when Sam was with him; and how alone he felt when he was out of sight of his mop-haired little brother.

"So," he repeated slowly, "you believe what Missouri said?" His interrogative gaze contemplated his brother.

"Yes, I do Dean. That must be why last night, when I had that painful vision or whatever it was, and my head seemed to be splitting apart, the images I saw were hazy, but as soon as you gripped my arms the pain disappeared and the images came into focus. When you touched me the two halves of our soul became one and you strengthened me in some way." 

 

"Alright, Sam. I gotta say I believe you, because when I held you, I did feel some sort of flux pass between us.  
"You didn't tell me!"

"Well as this seems to be the first time we've talked about it I don't see how I could have!"

Dean turned back to the fire, rubbing his hands as the flickering flames finally started to give off some heat.

"I suppose this means we're stuck together for ever, Sammy. What happens if we get fed up with one another?" he joked, as his eyes met Sam's swirly emotion-filled ones.  
"We'll just have to make sure it never happens," Sam whispered, knowing that being together was all they wanted, and if it was forever, all the better.

Dean held his brother's gaze, his silence louder than any words, renewing once again their pledge of eternal brotherhood.

 

They didn't know how much time had passed as they sat there shoulder to shoulder on the bench by the fire, and only when the door clicked open did Dean rise to his feet, a knife appearing in his hand as if by magic.

It was Pamela, her hands full with some fruit, bread and meat pies from the market.

Dean was by her side in a minute, relieving her of her burden. She smiled but her eyes were serious.

"They're out looking for you. There are men from Lawrencia combing the streets. It seems a man complained to the passing soldiers at an inn that two men had stolen his horses and set out towards Arkadelphia."

Dean nodded.  
He felt his brother's presence at his shoulder. "Then we must go. There's no way you or Ash are going to be put in danger because of us."

"But where will you go?” Pamela asked worriedly. "The gates leading out from the city are guarded and it seems they have a description of the horses."

An idea began to blossom in Dean's head.  
"If we run, they'll find us. That's what they're expecting, so…" he looked at his little brother with a smirk, "we'll do the exact opposite. We'll hide where they'll least expect it."  
He explained his plan to them both.

 

Making their way around the back of the little house, they set the two horses free with a resounding slap to their rumps, watching with a grin as they careered through the street, causing the passers-by to jump rapidly to the side.

Then the two brothers immersed their hands in the soil of the little garden, ingraining it under their once well cared for, nails and into the skin of their hands and neck. Not that they had been all that clean before, never having bathed since Missouri's pool, but now they looked like two farm boys just arrived in town.

While the garments Missouri had given them were simple, they were of good wool and relatively new, and Dean was sorry to have to rip the tunic and hose, but they had to present the correct impression of two lumbering country yokels.

 

After Dean had explained his plan to Sam, his brother had agreed it was so stupid that it might even work.

 

They crept through the back streets with Pamela as their guide and Dean, duly camouflaged as a smelly country yokel, presented himself to one of Azazel's men at arms, asking with a stutter for him and his none too bright cousin James to be enrolled as simple recruits in the King's army.

The soldier, never having seen the princes and having no idea what they looked like, suspected nothing. Able-bodied men were always needed to replace fallen comrades. He told them to follow on with the soldiers at the end of the day. King Adrian of Arkansia had reserved a barracks for the use of Azazel's soldiers up at the Castle.

Sam and Dean exchanged a triumphant smirk! What better place to hide than amongst the enemy.

TBC


End file.
